Book 47 - A Song For My Brother
by GailDunn2
Summary: Whether human, Angel, or otherwise, family ties come with complications, and one particular reunion will change everything.
1. My Love, My Life

**BOOK 47 – A SONG FOR MY BROTHER**

**SEASON OF LOVE – ETE, A CONTINUE**

**Chapter 1 – My Love, My Life**

"Suzanne, go outside and tell them all to get in here," Frank said. The young woman was paralyzed with confusion. Was there any danger here, or not? Rob's dad looked as white as a ghost. Wait a minute! Suzanne peered closer at the woman's face. Her hair was white, and she looked washed-out. But suddenly, Suzanne realized that this woman did look familiar to her, after all.

"NOW!" Frank shouted, making Suzanne jump. She ran back down the hallway.

Frank approached the intruder slowly. "Look, I don't know what you are, or who you're trying to fool, but in less than ten seconds, God will be here. And two Angels, and Sam and Dean Winchester. We've got salt, and Holy water, and Demon knives, and - "

"Frank, it's me," Jody said patiently. Then she favoured him with a thin smile. "Although, it's good to see you're being careful."

"My wife is dead," Frank said bluntly, and now, he was crying. "My wife is dead and gone, and whatever you are, you came to the wrong fucking house."

Bobby and Cas appeared on either side of Frank, and Gail was right beside them. She and Cas had their blades drawn, and Bobby's hand was up, in position to strike. Then, Frank could hear running footsteps behind the three of them, coming down the hallway.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed. He and Sam had Demon knives in their hands. Exactly where they had gotten them from was unclear.

There was a tense silence for a moment, and then, Cas said something very strange: "What did I put in your coffin?"

Jody started to smile. It was so damn good to see all of them again. She couldn't blame them for reacting the way they had. With her family and everything they'd all been through, it would be weird if they didn't. Thank God for Cas. He had asked the one question only Jody would be able to answer, to prove that it was actually her.

"Ammit's claw, and the Coffin Texts," she answered promptly, and then Jody looked at her husband. Poor Frank. The tears were streaming down his face now, but he looked mad, too. No, not just mad; furious. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard him drop the F-bomb. Under other circumstances, it might have been funny. Actually, it probably still was. They would have to have a laugh about it, later.

Cas was lowering his blade, astonished. Jody's answer had been exactly right. He had given up hope, because she had been gone so long.

"Look," Jody said to the others, "I know where you're all coming from, because I would be exactly the same way. So, do whatever it is you need to do. Splash some Holy water in my face. Bobby, you can put your hand on my head, and read my thoughts. See that I'm really, really me." She looked at Frank again. "I hate to be morbid, Pookie, but do you remember the clothes you buried me in?" She gestured to herself. "Let me tell you, after what I went through to get back here, I'm really glad you didn't go with a dress."

Frank made a sound that was a half-laugh, half-sob. Gail clutched her brother's arm, but she was looking up at Cas, and incredibly, he was smiling.

Bobby walked forward to where Jody was standing. "I'm gonna put my hand on your head and read your mind, like you said," he said warily. "If you try anything, I'll smite you. If I'm there in your mind and you try to smoke out, Cas will shove you back in. Got it?"

"Got it, Bobby," Jody said, bemused. She looked around at her assembled family members. They were all looking as shell-shocked as she'd felt when she had first appeared here in the hallway. This was incredible. Now she knew what all of that fighting she'd had to do had been for. It still hurt to look at Frank, though. And Sam, and Dean, and Gail. And Rob, who was standing beside his father, holding the hand of the girl Jody had initially spoken to here, when she'd returned from the Afterlife. No wonder she'd been so confused; Jody had never seen the girl before. Where were Eric, and Angela? It was dark outside, so Angela was probably in bed. Eric was probably just out, somewhere. He and Rob were men, now.

Bobby placed his hand on Jody's head as the others stood at the ready. For what? Nobody knew for sure. Nicole was one of the only ones in their group who hadn't assumed a battle stance, because she didn't really have one. But she was just as freaked out as everyone else was. Nicole knew how weird things could get in this family, sometimes. She herself had once been possessed by an ancient, evil entity named Ammit, the one who Jody had just mentioned a moment ago. Nicole was unclear as to what he'd meant by his question, but out of their whole group, Cas seemed to be the only one who looked as if he knew exactly what was going on, here.

Cas did, but he could certainly understand how the others felt. He had told no one about his attempt to guide Jody through the Afterlife and back, not even Gail. It was entirely too hypothetical, too risky, for Castiel to have gotten anyone's hopes up like that. And indeed, after so much time had passed, Cas had come to the conclusion that he had been wrong, or that Jody had been unable to make the transition. Then he had been glad that he hadn't told anyone. But now, after all this time, Jody was back, and the healing could begin. That was, if this really WAS Jody. Cas was cautiously optimistic, but he wasn't gullible, either. Many times, the old adage was true: the devil can appear to you in many forms, and often, the form he took was the thing that you wanted most of all.

Suddenly, they were all standing in the living room. "I know Angela's a sound sleeper, but I'm not sure about her little friend," Bobby said to the group. He looked at Jody. "You and I are gonna sit down now, and I'm gonna look into your mind."

Gail felt a chill. Angela! "I'll be right back," she told Cas in a soft voice.

She winked herself out of the room and into the upstairs hallway, just outside Angela's bedroom. She couldn't hear any sounds coming from within, so she opened the door carefully and quietly.

The light was off, and as Gail's eyes adjusted to the dark, she moved closer to Angela's bed. The two little girls were fast asleep, side by side, cuddling a stuffed animal each. Gail's heart warmed to see that Angela was holding Ralph tightly. Her aunt could almost swear that her old friend wore a smile on his cloth beak. Poochie's trunk was hooked over Jackie's arm, and hers and Angela's heads were tilted towards each other's. How cute was that?

Gail reached down and touched the girls' foreheads gently, putting them into a deeper sleep. It was the only sensible thing to do, under the circumstances. Until they sorted out just exactly what the ever-loving hell was going on here, it was best that Angela remain oblivious.

As it was, Gail's head was reeling. Was that really Jody, suddenly and miraculously back from the dead? Such a thing was hardly unheard-of in their family. What had Cas meant, when he had asked Jody/Not Jody what he had put in her coffin? What did Gail's husband know about this whole thing? The fact that he didn't seem as suspicious as the rest of them about Jody's appearance here was a red flag to Gail. How many times had she and Cas been in situations like that? The answer, of course, was: too many. He'd gotten a lot better at including Gail over the years, but if he had somehow orchestrated Jody's return from wherever she'd been and not told his wife about it, she was planning to kick some handsome, feathered ass.

Gail winked back down into the living room. "The girls are in a deep sleep. We don't have to worry about them," she told everyone.

Jody looked at her sister-in-law gratefully. This was going to be hard enough for the adults to accept, as it was. Wait: the "girls"? Plural? Oh. Angela must be having a sleepover. She would be old enough to be having those, by now.

"Where's Eric?" Jody asked Rob. Then her gaze shifted to Barry, who was hovering anxiously behind the Hunters. Like Nicole, he had retreated there so that the men who were used to dealing with questionable creatures could be up front. This woman looked and acted exactly like Jody, in Barry's opinion. Well, except for the fact that her hair was snowy white, of course.

"Where's Tommy?" Jody asked Barry, and his heart sank. She wouldn't know. If this really was Jody, she had died before Tommy's murder. Naturally, she would expect them to be together, at any family gathering.

"Come on, let's sit down," Bobby said. He steered Jody towards the couch, with Cas following right behind.

Bobby now noticed that Jody, if that was really who she was, had a cloth bag tied to the waistband of her jeans. "I'm gonna need that," he said sternly, pointing to it. Who knew what was in there, that might be used as a weapon?

Cas nodded curtly. That had been very astute of Bobby. Until they established who or what this individual was, they couldn't allow the intruder to retain possession of that bag.

"No," Jody said. Her hand moved to the bag, holding it to her side.

"Sorry, but that's not an acceptable answer." Bobby frowned, holding out his hand. "Give it."

Jody looked at him with a wary expression. Bobby was one of her oldest and dearest friends, but...

"I'll hold it for you, if you'll trust me," Cas said softly.

Jody turned her head to look at him. If she trusted him? Was he kidding? If it hadn't been for Cas, she wouldn't be here right now, about to be happily reunited with her family. Once they got over wanting to kill her, that was.

She reached for the bag, moving slowly. Until Bobby took a stroll in the house of Jody's mind and pronounced her legit, it was probably a good idea for her to behave benignly, as she had always wanted a suspect who she was confronting to behave. Even if Sam and Dean missed their shots, Bobby and Cas wouldn't.

Jody untied the bag at her waist and handed it to Cas. "You can take it, for now," she said pointedly. He took it from her and stashed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, which he'd had draped over his chair on the patio, in case the evening turned cool. The instant Suzanne had run outside, telling them that Frank needed their help because a strange woman had broken into the house, Cas had shrugged the jacket on. His blade had been in his pocket, of course. He never went anywhere without it. He'd also put Gail's blade in his other pocket prior to leaving their house, since she had such an unfortunate habit of leaving it at home.

Bobby and Jody were seated on the couch, and as everyone looked on nervously, Bobby put his hand on Jody's forehead. He closed his eyes and, after a moment, Jody did, too.

"Cas, what the hell is going on, here?" Frank said in a strangled voice.

"I promise you, I'll tell you everything, once Bobby is able to confirm her identity, one way or the other," Cas said in a hushed tone. He smiled thinly. It wasn't as if the tones of their voices would matter. The girls were sleeping soundly upstairs, and Bobby and Jody/Not Jody were in the subconscious world of Jody's mind, at the moment. Still, Cas remained vigilant, ready to strike if such an action was needed.

Frank was beyond any coherent thoughts or emotions right now. It couldn't be true. Any minute now, Bobby was going to smite the crap out of that Demon in Jody's body, and then Frank would march over to the liquor cabinet he kept in the dining room area and grab the first bottle he could lay his hands on. But she had called him "Pookie", the voice inside his head said. Who, outside the people in this house right now, would know that she used to call him that, from time to time? But people didn't just show up to visit their families after having been dead for a few years, did they? Frank argued with himself. Why not? the voice answered back. After all, YOU did.

Frank jerked in surprise when he felt an arm slip around his waist. It was Rob, and he was crying silent tears. Frank drew his son to him, hugging him tight. Neither man spoke.

After what felt like an eternity, Bobby removed his hand from Jody's head. Silence. Then, the assembled group could see a tear squeeze out of the corner of Bobby's eye and dribble down his cheek, disappearing into his beard. He leaned forward and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. "Welcome back, Dear."

Jody's face broke into a grin, and she touched Bobby's face, cupping his cheek with her hand. "Thanks, Bobby."

She stood from the couch as Bobby announced, "She's the real deal, everybody. Guaranteed. I checked every nook and cranny."

"I missed you all so much," Jody said in a trembling voice.

Frank was frozen, rooted to the spot. He felt Rob let go of him and then his son pushed him gently forward. Rob was weeping openly now, but he understood. His father deserved the first hug.

Jody and Frank met in the middle of the room. Both of them were crying now. But that was okay, because so was everybody else.

"So many times..." Frank started, but his voice broke, and he had to start again. "So many times, when I was having my morning cup of coffee at the kitchen table, I would turn to look at the counter, hoping to see you there, making the toast," Frank said, touching Jody's face with both hands. "I'd be at work, thinking I would call you, and ask you if you wanted me to bring something home for supper. Any time one of the kids did something that would make us proud, or said something funny, I would look around for you, to tell you. Every night when I got into bed, I would look over at the big, gaping, Grand Canyon-sized hole on your side of the bed, and think: Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day. If I can last just one more night, maybe I'll wake up in the morning, and you'll be lying beside me again."

"And so many times, when I was wondering if what I was doing made any sense at all, I would think of you and the kids. If there was a chance, even if it was the slimmest of chances, that I could make it back to you..." Now it was Jody's voice that broke.

Frank took her in his arms, and the couple embraced for a good, long, time. Then they shared a kiss, and then Frank said in a thick voice, "Geez, we'd better stop it. We're getting as bad as Cas and Gail."

It was decidedly lame as far as humorous comments went, but everyone who was gathered in the living room laughed as if it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Cas approached the two of them extending a box of tissues, and they all laughed again.

"Get in here," Frank said to his brother-in-law. He pulled Cas in, and Jody did the same with Gail. Then Cas pulled Sam in, and Gail pulled Dean in, and so on, until the entire group of them were standing together in a big, soggy hug cluster.

After a minute or three, Jody's muffled voice came from the middle of the circle: "Uhh, guys, I love you all, but we're going to have to break it up now, because I'm suffocating."

They broke up into smaller groups, but the hugs and the kisses continued.

Rob was still holding his mother's hand, and he had his other arm around Suzanne. "Mom, this is Suzanne," Jody and Frank's son said. "She's my fiancee."

Jody's eyebrows rose. She looked at Frank, who was nodding. "I know, right?" he said to his wife. "It took a bit of getting used to. Sometimes, I still think of him as that little kid who used to get ice cream all over his face."

Rob rolled his eyes. "Great. Way to sell me out, Dad. Again."

Suzanne was grinning. "That's OK; at least he's getting all the embarrassing stuff out of the way now, before the wedding."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Frank joked. "But never fear, I have lots of ammo left."

"Don't listen to him," Jody advised the young couple with a smirk. "My husband has gotten more ice cream on his own face than Rob has ever gotten on his. Welcome to the family, Suzanne."

Rob's fiancee hugged Jody impulsively, and father and son exchanged smiles. Jody had never been much of a hugger, they knew. But if there was ever an occasion that cried out for hugs, it was this one.

Jody extricated herself after a moment. "Speaking of the family, where's Eric? And, where's Tommy?"

"You've missed some stuff, Babe," Frank said uncomfortably, taking her by the hand. Now he finally got why Cas and Gail held hands and hugged and kissed, all the time. He was never going to let of Jody. Never. But she'd just gotten back, and he didn't want her bombarded with bad news. So instead, he said, "We'll get to it, but right now, I think we all need to hear about you. How did you do it?" Frank glanced at Cas. "And what do YOU know about this whole thing?"

"I'll go get the champagne," Rob announced.

"Why don't we go outside, to the back patio?" Bobby suggested. "I'll put my Heavenly Cone of Silence around the yard, and we can have at it. If you're up to it, dear, I think we're all anxious to hear your story."

"Sounds good to me," Jody said. "Is there any cold beer?"

Frank looked at her. "Are you sure you're my wife? In what universe would we not have cold beer? Especially with Sam and Dean Winchester in attendance?"

"My guys." Jody looked at the brothers warmly.

Sam was doing that thing with his face, as Gail called it. Whenever the younger Winchester became extremely emotional, he would work his jaw back and forth, blink his eyes rapidly, and try to smile. But because he was also fighting back tears, the overall effect was that his expression was both pathetic and comical, all at once.

"OK, Sam, bring it in," Jody said, motioning to her friend. He came forward and looked down at her.

"I never thought..." Sam cleared his throat. "I thought I would never see you again."

"There were a lot of times I thought that same thing," Jody responded earnestly. Then she smiled. "I know you're hanging back because you know I've never really been a hugger, but you know what? I think I'll be hugging more, in the future. I think there'll be a lot of things I'll do in the future that I never did before. Hey, I'm the walking, talking epitome of 'Life's too short'."

Sam wrapped his arms around her. "Welcome back, Jodes. If you need any help drafting your 'bucket list', you just let me know."

She laughed against his chest. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You have an app for that."

"Of course I do," Sam responded, playing along. "We all die so often, I figured we'd probably be able to put it to good use."

Jody laughed so hard that she hiccupped, and that made her laugh some more. Then she reached out to Dean.

"How have things been going?" Jody asked the elder Winchester. "Catching a lot of cases?"

"Not lately," Dean said with a slight frown. But he was thinking along the same lines as Frank. They'd get to all of it, eventually. But right now, he just wanted to bask in the warmth of the moment. Jody was back. She had kicked death in the ass. "We'll get there," he said to his friend. "But, Bobby's right. We all need to sit down, have a drink, and hear about how you did it."

"I'm so glad you're back," Nicole piped up. "We need another strong woman around."

"Thanks," Jody replied, nodding to Dean's girlfriend in acknowledgement.

Barry moved forward now. "I'm not only going to hug you, I'm going to do this," he told her. He kissed Jody firmly on one cheek, and then on the other. One for himself, and one for Tommy. Jody was going to be devastated when she heard. "I'll say the same thing to you as the others have: you've missed a few...events. We'll talk about that later," Barry added.

Jody hugged him, but her expression was quizzical. Everybody was being so evasive with her, and it was starting to freak her out. Had Barry and Tommy split up? Had Eric gone back to Florida, maybe?

Cas was standing off to the side, letting Jody have her moment with everyone. Gail was the one person Jody hadn't interacted with yet, Cas noticed. Cas's wife had been patiently waiting her turn. Jody went over to the couple now, and she smiled at Gail.

"I'm going to give you a hug now, so don't be too startled," Jody said to her sister-in-law. "But I'm saving the biggest hug for Cas. If it wasn't for your husband, I wouldn't be here right now."

Gail embraced Jody. Then, the Angel looked at her husband. "OK, Cas...what the hell?!" Gail exclaimed. "Start talking!"

"Let's go back outside, and we'll fill you all in," Cas responded. He accepted Jody's embrace, smiling at her warmly. "I'm so glad it worked," he said to his sister-in-law. "I feared that it had been too long."

Jody laughed shortly. "That's because I went on a little side trip, first." She gave Cas a gentle kiss on the cheek, and he smiled again, shyly this time. "Let's go outside," he repeated. "You and Frank can buy me a drink, if you like," he joked.

Frank reclaimed Jody's hand. "Are you kidding?" Gail's brother said in a thick voice. "If you played a part in this, any part at all..." He lost his words. This was just too good to be true. Frank had his wife back. He had his LIFE back.

They all walked back down the hall and through the kitchen, chattering away excitedly. Jody was back. This was the biggest and the best win their family had ever had.

Vincent had thus far been unable to find Elijah because the Prophet hadn't been in the position to join the Voodoo Priest. Not yet. Eli's flock had been miniscule, comprised of only a couple of dozen hardcore religious zealots, and societal outcasts. How humiliating it would have been to have had to summon Papa Legba with such a meager following.

But things were slowly starting to change. As the summer began to wane, a mysterious figure wandered into the commune, demanding to see Elijah.

The handful of workers who had been toiling out in the fields usually intercepted visitors, running interference for their leader. The authorities in town tended to hassle the members of the religious group whenever they had to venture into town for supplies. And Father Eli was a lightning rod for controversy. A couple of weeks ago, the police had come to the commune to talk to him about a young girl who had come into the station house, sobbing. She'd told the officer on the Duty Desk that Father Elijah had seduced her and made her pregnant, and that her parents had kicked her out of the office when she'd told them. She was couch surfing right now, staying with a friend or two, but she was always hungry, and both her stomach and her back hurt. Couldn't the cops DO something? Make him help her?

So, a couple of officers had driven out there and had a little chat with "Father Eli". Talk about irony. He had his followers well trained to rebuff unwelcome visitors to the commune, but exceptions were made for certain types of people. Eli needed to be able to show law enforcement that he was a legitimate religious leader, who had nothing to hide. So he had received the police officers graciously, telling them that he would be glad to answer any questions they might have. Yes, he knew who the young lady was. She had come to the commune, wanting to join their group. But when he had found out how young she was, and that she still lived at home with her parents, Father Eli had sent her packing, with an admonition not to come back until she had reached adulthood. He'd acted astonished when the officers told him that Wendy was accusing him of fathering her child. He was more than twice the girl's age! Father Eli would pray that young Wendy received the help and counselling she so obviously needed.

The cops had left the commune, shaking their heads. They'd seen this kind of thing before. Young Wendy had followed the script all too predictably. A young girl from a small town gets herself in trouble with a boy. Whichever of her high school boyfriends had been responsible for the pregnancy would have hopes and dreams of his own, and they wouldn't include being saddled with an underage wife and a squalling brat. So Wendy had told her parents about her condition, hoping that they would help her through this difficult and confusing time. But this was a small town, and her parents were old school, with reputations in the community to uphold. If Wendy insisted on parading around town with the evidence of her promiscuity so prominently displayed, she would not do so while living under their roof.

Wendy would have been desperate then, searching for someone to help take the huge weight of responsibility from her shoulders. She must have thought that Father Eli, being the leader of a religious group, would just accept her into the fold. But the guy had done the proper thing, and told her to go home to her parents. Eli was a good-looking, charismatic man, who had about three dozen faithful followers now, most of who were well-built, good-looking women. Why would he need to fool around with a naive underage girl, when he had all of those other females under his roof? Assuming that kind of thing was going on there, of course. It was hard to say with those so-called religious types. But whatever was going on or not going on at the commune, the cops didn't really care, as long as Eli and his "flock" were law-abiding citizens. After all, it wasn't as if they were dealing with a Manson-type situation, or anything.

The officers had gone back to the station house, sat Wendy down, and had a gentle talk with her. She had been a little calmer when they got back. Some of the Ladies' Auxiliary had come by and given the girl some vouchers for food and clothing, and a chit for a free night's stay at the motel uptown. She also had the business card of a family counsellor in her purse.

Thus fortified, Wendy was outwardly stoic when the officers told her what Eli had said. It was none of their business who the father of her baby actually was, they said, but she couldn't just go around accusing a respectable member of the community of a crime, much less a man of the cloth, without any proof.

A crime? Wendy had echoed, startled.

Uhhh...yeah, one of the cops had said, flashing his partner a look. Statutory rape was a crime.

"But...he...I..." Wendy said, and then her mouth had closed with a snap. She didn't want Eli to be arrested. She loved Eli.

A few minutes later, Wendy left the police station, and the officers had congratulated themselves on a job well done. And a week later, Wendy had moved into one of the back rooms in the main house of the commune.

When the stranger had walked onto the property, Wendy was nowhere in sight. Father Eli had asked her to stay away from prying eyes until her birthday, in September. Once she was of legal age, there would be no danger that the authorities could force her to go back to her parents' house, or that Eli could be arrested.

But there were a half dozen others who had intercepted the visitor, who told them that he was there to assist Elijah in his endeavours. Who was he? one of the women wanted to know.

"Just tell him it's Mark," the stranger said with a smile.

"Mark...who?" the man who had been assigned to supervise the work in the field inquired.

"Do you have a Bible?" Mark asked him dryly.

"Of course we do," the woman who'd spoken up first said. "We're a religious group."

"Good. You'll find me in it, along with three other guys named Matthew, Luke, and John," Mark said brashly. "Now, run and get your leader. We have some things to talk about."

The family were all sitting around on the patio with cold drinks in their hands now, even the Angels.

"A toast, to the best damn thing that's happened to all of us in a long, long time," Bobby said in a thick voice. Everyone raised their glasses and drank.

"I know that everyone is anxious to find out how it's possible for me to be here," Jody began. "I'll tell you everything I can, but the first part of the story belongs to Cas."

Gail's husband gave her hand a squeeze, and then let go. He cleared his throat nervously. Hopefully, the joy of this occasion would supplant the inevitable anger Gail would feel toward him for having kept such a huge secret from her. But he had meant what he'd said earlier. When Cas had made the decision to do what he had done, a large part of him had been doubtful that it could actually work.

"I'm sure that all of you remember our excursion to Las Vegas, to gather the Seven Utterances, otherwise known as the Coffin Texts?" Cas said. They all nodded, and Sam and Dean grinned. Sure they did. That had been a fun trip, despite the fact that they had gone there on a mission, and with the black cloud of Jody's illness hanging over all of their heads.

"At the time, I was under the impression that the phrases we had gathered there were for a different purpose," Cas continued, "but all of the research that Kevin and Emma and the rest of us did on the subject appeared to lead to a dead end. We tried diagramming the phrases, rearranging them, and making sense of the results. But nothing we were able to come up with had any relevancy to what we were working on, at the time. But then, I remembered an ancient legend that referred to 'running the gauntlet' in the Afterlife. It said that there were seven obstacles to overcome, and seven tasks to perform at the various way stations, for lack of a better term. So, I got to thinking: what if the Seven Utterances, also known as the Coffin Texts, were to be used for that purpose?"

"Why didn't you tell me about any of that?" Gail asked her husband, astonished.

"Because it was mere conjecture on my part," Cas responded quickly. "And because I was praying that it would remain an intellectual exercise, only. Jody could have rallied, or gone into remission. But when she - " His throat closed up.

"Died, Cas. It's OK to say it. When I died," Jody prompted her brother-in-law, her lips twitching. Frank squeezed his wife's hand, taking a giant gulp from the glass of liquor Bobby had poured and shoved into his hand, calling it "medicinal". Frank had accepted the drink, but he knew what the real medicine was. Sure, he did. He was holding her hand, right now.

Cas cleared his throat. "Right. Yes. When Jody died, my theory was still only that – a theory. I had been doing as much covert research on the subject as I could manage, but I could never find a documented instance where such a thing had actually ever been accomplished. The additional research was beneficial, though. I found a version of the legend which mentioned that a body part from an ancient demi-god would be required for one of the tasks. So, I took Ammit's claw from the storage room at the bunker. I put the Utterances in Jody's pocket, and I tucked the claw underneath her, in the casket."

Everyone was quiet for a minute. Gail remembered when Cas had leaned down into the coffin, giving Jody a kiss. That must have been when he'd done it. Wow. All these years, all this time, and he hadn't uttered a word. It was unbelievable. She didn't know whether to be impressed, or mad as hell.

They all looked at each other, then at Cas. No one knew quite what to say. Was this even real?

Eventually, Frank found his words. "So, you're telling me that you put a piece of paper in my wife's pants pocket, and some kind of ancient rabbit's foot thingie in there with her, and..." He couldn't even finish his sentence.

But Cas was nodding matter-of-factly. "I had no idea if the legend was even true, but, on the slim chance that it was, I hoped that Jody would be able to perform the necessary tasks to fight her way back from the Afterlife."

Jody gave Cas a warm smile. Then, she shook her head briefly. "There was only one problem with that plan," she said. "When I died, Death was there, wherever 'there' was. He said he was going to escort me to my final resting place. And so, he did. He escorted me to the Netherworld."

Cas gasped in shock, and his sister-in-law nodded in acknowledgement. "I know," she said, as if he'd spoken aloud. "I wasn't expecting that, either. From what you told us, I always thought that the Netherworld was a place that was reserved for dignitaries. I'm just an ordinary person. I expected to go to Heaven. I know you told me that there are no guarantees, but, still..." Jody made a face. "I asked him why, and he got this look on his face. I can't really describe it."

"Like he'd sucked about a dozen lemons?" Gail piped up, and the women laughed. "Pretty much," Jody agreed.

"Guy's a dick," Dean grumbled.

"Then what?" Bobby inquired.

**VIGNETTE – FAR FROM THE HOME I LOVE**

Jody had traipsed alongside Death, a frustrated expression on her face. He'd said he was taking her to the Netherworld, then started to walk away, without another word.

"Why?" she'd asked him, and he stopped short. But he didn't turn around to look at her. He just stood there stiffly, making her come to him.

Jody had thrown her hands up, noticing now that she had her own body, the one she'd had in life. Actually, it was even better than the one she'd had when she had died: a full head of hair, and both boobs. How about that? It made sense, when she thought about it. After all, Bobby's vessel had all ten toes, didn't it?

Aside from the fact that she was dead, Jody really couldn't have asked for any better. And the best part of all was that she had her thought process back. That had been the absolute worst thing about the illness that had ended up killing her: losing possession of her mental faculties.

But, now that she was in her right mind again, Jody was trying to figure out why she was being farmed out to the Netherworld, instead of going to Heaven. She caught up to where the tall, dour-looking man who called himself Death was standing with his back to her.

Jody faced him. "Why am I going to the Netherworld, instead of Heaven?" she asked him boldly.

Death looked at her. "Based on who you are related to, I know that you know who I am," he said by way of an answer. "And because you know who I am, you know that I do not explain myself, or my decisions. Come."

Incredibly, he started walking again, and even though he seemed to be moving slowly, Jody had to hurry to catch up. She was starting to feel like that little dog in those old cartoons, the one that kept following the bigger dog around, constantly yapping at it without making much of an impression.

"But, I..." Jody started to say, and Death's expression became even more dour, if such a thing was possible. He stopped walking again, facing her this time.

"I will only say this once," he said, and even though his tone was even, Jody backed up a step. Death's eyes were boring into hers, and suddenly, she could see the Earth being overrun with the Living Dead, like every bad zombie movie Frank had ever made her watch. Why was Death showing her THAT? Was it a sign of things to come? Was knowing what was going to befall her family in the coming years her punishment for having the temerity to ask him a question?

"As I have told other members of your family, I have no personal stake in who lives, or who dies," Death continued, "and I have no feelings about that, one way, or the other. I do believe in the natural order of things, and those who seek to interfere with it must be dealt with. Now, follow me."

Incredibly, he started walking away from her again. Jody was open-mouthed. What the hell kind of answer had that been? She missed Cas now, and good old-fashioned Angel evasion.

And, that had been it. Seeing little choice, Jody accompanied him. They walked for a bit, and then Death extended his walking stick, holding it high. A portal opened up that looked like a series of doors, one leading to the next, and then to the next, and so on. He gestured to Jody to proceed, and she tentatively stepped forward. She looked at him one more time, and his mouth tightened.

Jody sighed, then stepped through the first door.

She had expected Death to accompany her, but when Jody stepped through the final door, she was alone.

Great. Just great. She looked around, trying to gauge her surroundings. Funny; it looked just like any quiet, suburban neighbourhood.

"Hey, Rick! Go long!" a male voice called out.

Jody walked down the street, heading towards the source of the voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

"Gimme that football, Matty," Gus grumbled. "You're letting the steaks burn."

Jody was standing in the biggest back yard she had ever seen. It looked as large as the park they had first met these guys in, back on the Fourth of July, the year they'd been at war with Satan. Of course, they'd met Matty even before that. Jody and Frank had been devastated when these men had been murdered by Lucifer's thugs.

"Jody!" Matty exclaimed. He handed the tongs to Gus and rushed forward, extending his arms. He gave her a big bear hug. "It's great to see you!" Then, he pulled out of the embrace, frowning. "Then again, on the other hand..." He craned his neck, looking around. "Is Frank here, too?"

"No," Jody said. "Brain tumor." She gestured to her head. "Frank and the kids are still alive and doing fine, as far as I know."

"Kids?" Rick inquired. He trotted up to Jody with the football in one hand, giving her a one-armed hug with the other.

Jody smiled. "Oh, yeah. That's right. You wouldn't know. I had a baby girl. Our Robbie's a young man now, and Angela is growing like a weed."

"You had a baby?" Matty said, smirking. "How old were you, like, fifty?"

"Actually, yeah," Jody replied sassily. "So what?"

"So, nothing," Frank's friend said good-naturedly. Then, he frowned. "I'm sorry you and Frank didn't get to raise her together. Awful damn sorry."

"It's good to see you again," Jody said, tears prickling at her eyes.

"You, too," Owen said, "even though this means you're dead."

"I couldn't believe it when that sour-faced suit came and told us we were coming here with him," Matty said. He returned to the grill, yoinked the tongs out of Gus's hand, and threw another steak on the barbecue for Jody. Funny, it was only after he did it that she could smell the aroma of the meat, cooking.

"He said we deserved our spot here, because we fought Lucifer's armies," said Rick. "I wasn't so sure this was much of a reward. I mean, no offense to these guys, but I'd rather be with my wife, and watch my kids grow up, you know what I mean?"

Jody did. She knew exactly what he meant. She felt the same way. As thrilled as she was to see that these guys were together in whatever kind of version of the Afterlife this was, she felt hollow inside. Frank would be happy that his buddy Matty was playing football and having a barbecue with his friends. But Frank would never find that out, not until he himself died. If then, even. Because, to take that thought further, what guarantee did Jody have that Frank would join her here, when his time came? And what about the kids? Jody remembered way back when Linda had been here in the Netherworld, helping them with the Tablet missions, their friend had led a very solitary existence. Was Jody destined for the same fate? Huh. Some "reward".

Well, at least one mystery was solved now. This was why Cas had been unable to locate these men in Heaven's Garden, when he had been God. Now Jody wondered if Bobby had been searching for her, only to get the same result. Probably. It was frustrating as hell.

"So, THAT's why we couldn't find you!" Bobby said, throwing his hands up in the air. "We had all hands on deck looking, too. Me, Cas, Gail, Gabe..."

"And that was why I couldn't find your friend, or the rest of those men," Cas chipped in, looking at Frank. "I would never have dreamed that any of you would be in the Netherworld. That realm has traditionally been reserved for dignitaries, only."

"There goes the neighbourhood," Sam quipped.

"Cas isn't a snob; ask anyone," Dean joked. "Well, anyone who matters."

Cas was disconcerted. He knew that his friends were only giving him a hard time, but he'd been sincere in his comment. Traditionally, that was the way it had always worked. He supposed he should be grateful that Death seemed to be expanding the parameters, though. Perhaps that would mean that when Cas's time came, he would be reunited with many of his family members, after all.

"Just wait," Jody told them all. "There's more."

She'd sat down with Matty and the others, and they had shared a meal together. But then, Jody'd had to say goodbye. She didn't belong there. So she had continued on down the suburban street, which then morphed into a city block. She saw two young men coming towards her in the opposite direction, and as they neared, Jody did a double-take.

"Jody!" Riley exclaimed. He elbowed Efram. "See? I told you she looked familiar!"

More hugs were exchanged, and Jody was shaking her head slowly. She guessed she should have figured as much, in a way. But, in another way, the selection process defied logic. Humans and Angels both, and the only thing these men all seemed to have in common was their association with Jody's extended family. Maybe this was a good sign. Maybe this meant that all she had to do was find the place where she belonged, then sit back and wait for the rest of her family to arrive. If Jody knew that Frank and Sam and Dean and all the others were due to arrive in the Netherworld when they died too, she could wait patiently. Was she being shown all of this to give her hope?

Jody chatted with the young Angels for a while, and then she was on the move again.

Gail was crying happy tears again. Riley and Efram were in the Netherworld, and they were together? This was terrific! Riley had told her in the past that he and Efram, who had been a small-town boy like Riley, had always wanted to live in New York City. The Big Apple. The City That Never Slept. Gail could picture them living in a three-storey brownstone, walking to neighbourhood grocery stores and playing stickball in the streets with the kids. What an old-fashioned image, but the mental picture warmed her heart, so she decided to hang onto it.

Cas's wife had been terrified in the past, afraid of being condemned to an eternity without Cas. Death had even shown her such a fate, when she had pulled out all the stops to be reunited with her husband following Ammit's demise.

Ammit!? "Wait a minute," Gail said to her sister-in-law. "As wonderful as all this is to hear, what does it have to do with the Seven Utterances, and Ammit's claw?"

"Funny you should ask," Jody said, but she was frowning.

Jody continued to walk along the path in the Netherworld, and she was amazed at how quickly and dramatically the landscape changed. She walked through a brief blizzard, down a two-lane blacktop highway, and past some beachfront property. Her feet weren't tired and she felt no physical exertion, but she was puzzled. Where exactly was she expected to go? What was she supposed to be looking for?

She'd finally looked in the pocket of her jeans and found the list of Utterances and Ammit's clawed hand. What the - ? She flipped the piece of paper over.

"You may be able to use these in the Afterlife," Cas had written, in his neat but slightly spiky cursive lettering. "Seven Utterances, seven beasts. I'm unsure at what point you will need the claw. Please fight your way back to us if you can, Jody. Please. We need you."

Frank looked at Cas now, as Jody told them about her discovery of the note.

"If I didn't think my sister might punch me, I would come over there and kiss you, right now," Frank said to his brother-in-law. As the Winchesters snickered, Gail shrugged. "Hey, if it's OK with Jody, it's OK with me," she told her brother.

Jody refrained from rolling her eyes, but just barely. She knew from long experience that Frank and Gail dealt with strong emotions by joking around. But none of them sitting on the patio at this moment had any idea how that note had made her feel. Not even Cas. Confused, scared, and hopeful, all at the same time. Mad at Cas, because she didn't have the foggiest idea who or what those beasts were that he was talking about. Loving her brother-in-law, because he had taken the trouble to give her these things. Even if she had no clue what she was supposed to do with them.

Jody had stared at Cas's note for a long time. Or it felt like a long time, anyway. One thing she had noticed about the Netherworld was that there didn't seem to be any way to mark the passage of time here. There were shades of dark and light in the various environments she had passed through, but no natural progression from day to night, and back again.

Finally, Jody stuffed the piece of paper back into her jeans. She still held the claw, turning it around and around with both hands. What a weird-looking thing. What the hell was she supposed to do with it? Damned if she knew. Not even Cas had, apparently.

"What are you doing with that?" a raspy voice growled.

Jody looked up, and a figure stepped out of the shadows. What had been a pleasant, sunny day was now dark and foreboding. The entity that was approaching her had a female's body, with a black dog's head that resembled a Doberman pinscher's. Great.

"You must be Ammit," Jody said warily.

"Yes, I am. What are you doing with my hand?" the ancient goddess said again.

Hand? Yeah. Right, Jody thought sarcastically. But she had no idea what to say, or how to behave. Ammit seemed angry. Jody guessed she would be too, if the situation was reversed. Was Ammit one of the beasts she was supposed to kill?

"Ammit?!" Cas exclaimed. "Ammit was there? In the Netherworld? Ammit?"

They all looked at him, startled. None of those gathered here had ever seen Cas quite like this before, not even the ones who had known him the longest.

"Cas, man, don't have a stroke," Dean said to his friend.

The Angel looked at the elder Winchester, and his eyes flashed bright blue for a moment. This was outrageous! None of them would understand what an affront this was to him. Castiel was aware that there were a few "borderline" individuals in the Netherworld already, but at least they had the standing to warrant their placement there. Raphael and Luke were two such entities. But Ammit, although she was an ancient goddess and the sister of Anubis, did not belong in the Netherworld, not in Castiel's opinion. What had Death been thinking, placing her there? Ammit was an abomination, who had taken souls for the Lake of Fire that were not hers to take. She had tortured and tormented those people, then ingested their power, strengthening herself in increments. She had even planned to usurp Death himself, at one point. Then why on earth would the ultimate Reaper wish to reward Ammit by allowing her to dwell in the Netherworld? Unless...maybe he had placed her there to keep tabs on her. As they had all seen, there were very few other realms where souls could go that were as secure as the Netherworld. Perhaps it was just as simple as that. Cas certainly hoped so.

"So, what happened next?" Rob asked his mother.

As Ammit approached Jody, Frank's wife adopted a fighting stance. But how in the hell was she supposed to defeat an ancient goddess without a weapon?

She looked down at the claw in her hand. Could it be?

"I fought her with everything I had, and just when I thought she had me on the ropes, the weirdest thing happened," Jody told her family, who were listening closely in fascination. "She looked up suddenly, as if she was hearing a sound I couldn't hear."

"Probably a dog whistle," Frank wisecracked, and he and Sam high-fived smartly.

Jody's lips twitched briefly, but she couldn't bring herself to appreciate the humour just yet. This whole thing was still just a little too fresh. "Anyway, when her head snapped up like that, I did the only thing I could do," Jody went on. "I stuck the claw in her neck, and ripped her throat out with it."

Somewhat incongruously, Cas smiled. Jody's instincts had served her well. That was the only way that Cas knew of to neutralize an ancient Egyptian demigod.

"But it was weird, because there was no blood," Jody continued. "Then I started to think about how ridiculous the situation was. I was dead, and so was she. It. Whatever. What was the point?"

"In Purgatory, that's all that goes on," Dean piped up. "Kill, or be killed. All damn day, every damn day."

Cas was agitated. "But, that's Purgatory! The Netherworld is a different realm, entirely!"

Jody was shaking her head. "No, it wasn't like that. As soon as I stuck her with the claw, she roared. And I mean ROARED, louder than any animal I've ever heard. I wondered how she could be doing that, with no throat. As soon as I thought of that, she stopped. Then she whispered something that sounded like 'squat excom aftrea'. That's as near as I can remember. It sounded like some really bad Latin, or something."

Cas was thoughtful for a moment, and then his jaw dropped. "She was banishing you, to the Afterlife."

"That's right," Jody agreed. "And then, the fun really began."

**VIGNETTE – SEVEN WAYS TO DIE**

**THERE**

Jody looked around in astonishment. She'd gone from wrestling with a dog-faced demigod on a dark and foreboding landscape to standing in a clearing in the middle of a lush, tropical jungle. And she was alone.

Well, thank God for that, anyway. She was shaking and sweaty from her unexpected encounter with Ammit, and her body was sore. Body? Was that the right word? Or should she be calling it her "vessel", now? Was she an Angel? If she was, there was no way this was the Garden, though. Heaven's waiting area had been described to Jody as a forestlike area, a serene place with flower beds and babbling streams.

Where she was now looked like the setting of every Tarzan movie she had ever seen. She almost expected to see him any minute now, swinging on a vine out of the dense jungle. What the hell was she supposed to do, here? Was this where one of those beasts would be that Cas had written about? Yikes. And here she was, without a weapon. She didn't even have the claw any more. Great.

She sighed. Well, there was no use just standing here like a fool, lamenting about what she didn't have. If she needed to fight beasts to make her way back to Frank and the kids, she'd better make damn sure she had a weapon.

Jody proceeded forward, into the jungle.

**HERE**

"I don't know exactly when it was that I realized what was going on," Jody told her family. "So I'll tell you guys now what I didn't know, then. The Afterlife is set up like all seven of the Earth's continents. The seven beasts in Cas's note were the ones that have to be defeated, in order to make it out. But if I hadn't had Ammit's claw, I would never have even made it to the Afterlife."

Cas let out a breath. He'd had no idea. Thank God Jody had managed to make it to the Afterlife realms.

"I was in the African part," Jody went on. "I figured I'd be facing a lion, or something. So I went into the jungle to see if I could find something to fashion into a spear."

Frank was looking at his wife with admiration. "Ladies and gentlemen, my wife, The Terminator," he said proudly.

"Did you manage to make a weapon?" Cas asked his sister-in-law. He was enthralled with her story.

"Wait a minute." Jody held up her hand. She took a drink from her beer bottle. "I've been doing all the talking, here. At the risk of sounding like Hannibal Lecter, I think it's time for a little quid pro quo. How about if one or two of you tells me about something I've missed? I've seen the looks you've all been exchanging, every time I ask a question. Tell me just one thing I've missed out on, and then I'll tell you about my jungle adventure."

"OK, Jumanji," Dean wisecracked, earning a smile from his friend. "I've got a good one for you. Let me tell you about the time Cas and Gail and Gabriel were dosed with a magic potion that turned them into the equivalent of eight-year-olds."

Gail made a face. "Really? Out of all the things you could have picked? What about Nicole's haunted house?"

"What about us, defeating the evil Nazi President?" Sam piped up. He was looking forward to telling Jody about Eileen. "And for once, I'm not talking about ours," he added with a grin.

"As intrigued as I am by that last one, I think I'll stick to more lighthearted subject matter, right now," Jody said, taking another drink.

"My house isn't haunted any more, anyway," Nicole said good-naturedly. "Although, we did get a really fun trip to Russia out of it. You haven't seen anything until you've seen Dean, Sam and Cas, cossack dancing."

"OK, that one, we'll have to come back to," Jody said with a smirk on her face. "But I have to admit, I kind of want to hear about the Angels, as little kids. Sorry, Cas; Gail. That just sounds too funny."

"Oh, it was," Bobby remarked, nodding vigorously. The Angels looked at him. "Well, it was," he added, a little defensively.

Cas and Gail looked at each other, and then their faces broke into smiles. "Yeah, it was," Gail admitted.

The teasing was relentless for the next few minutes, and eventually they were all laughing, even Cas and Gail. It did the Angels' hearts good to be able to have a laugh with everyone, especially with Frank and Jody, and Rob. Suzanne kept looking shyly at Rob's mother, shaking her head as if she was trying to wake up from a dream. Gail could just imagine how the young girl felt. Things were crazy enough in their family as it was, without having to worry about people suddenly coming back from the dead. Especially since it was Suzanne's prospective mother-in-law who was holding court. But Gail didn't think that Rob's fiancee and Jody would have too much trouble getting along, after a bit of an adjustment period, of course.

"Becky was screwing around with Rowena's spell book, and she accidentally de-aged the three of them," Frank told his wife. "It was hilarious. They were like The Little Rascals, only in bigger bodies." He grinned at Gail. "Well, the men were bigger, anyway." His sister stuck her tongue out at him, and Frank laughed. Everything was funny to him now, because he had Jody back. He had his light back.

Then again, maybe not everything was so funny. "Becky?!" Jody exclaimed, puzzled. "Why would she have been doing that?"

Sam was working his jaw, and the others looked uncomfortable. "See? There! THAT's the kind of thing I was talking about!" Jody said, gesturing in frustration.

Bobby sighed. "We'll get there, dear. But let's build up to it, OK? You just got back. The last thing we want to do is overwhelm you."

"Tell us about the jungle, and then we'll tell you the rest of our story," Rob said to Jody. "OK, Mom?"

She frowned. Boy, oh boy. Whatever it was they were keeping from her, it had to be bad. Her stomach churned. Where were Eric and Tommy? Was there any significance to be attached to the fact that Becky and Brian weren't here, but Nicole was?

Suddenly, Jody wasn't so sure she wanted to know. Those weren't the looks of people who had good news to share. That story about the Angels behaving like little kids, as entertaining as it had been, was a red herring.

Jody nudged Frank. "Can I get some whiskey from that bottle you've got beside you? I get the feeling I'm going to need it."

"Sure, Babe," Frank said softly. He grabbed a glass and filled it half full, paused, and then filled it all the way.

"It's that bad, is it?" Jody said dryly. She took a hit from the glass, then continued: "So, there I was, in the jungle..."

**THERE**

Jody used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Then she straightened up from her crouched position and inspected the spear she had just made. Not bad, considering what little she'd had to work with. She thought about the survival training course she had been on years ago, as a member of the Sioux Falls PD. Before her promotion to Sheriff, Jody had signed up for all the extra training she could get. Sioux Falls was a fairly small town, with a lot of woodsy areas. If a person was out there doing an investigation or looking for a perp and got turned around, it would be easy to get lost in the woods. So Jody had learned how to forage for food, build a fire without matches, and even how to make crude weapons out of tree branches. Some joker had asked why they couldn't just use their service revolvers to kill wild game, and the instructor had looked at the guy, shaking his head slowly, and then moved on.

And Jody was glad that he had, because she had been able to learn enough skills to fashion a spear out of a fairly sturdy tree branch that she'd found on the jungle floor. She'd wound her way through the plants and vines, alert for any movement. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any snakes, or other creepy-crawly things; at least, not that she could see.

Eventually, she came upon a strange-looking creature. It was the size of a large pony, with two crooked horns: one on its brow, and the other at the nape of its neck. What the hell kind of animal was this? Jody thought.

I'm an abada, Jody heard in her head. Okie-dokie. A telepathic, weird-ass unicorn. Why not? Was she supposed to kill it? It didn't look scary or threatening, though, just...weird. Jody looked at the spear in her hand, then at the abada.

You have to kill me, it said in her head. You need to take one of my horns with you, on your journey.

Jody peered closer at the creature. She'd thought it looked like a pony, but now, she realized it actually looked like a sad and droopy-eared donkey. Eeyore! How the hell was she supposed to kill Eeyore?

I don't know what is Eeyore, but you must kill me, the abada said. If you do not, you may be barred from crossing, at the last threshhold.

Jody's grip on the spear tightened for a moment, but then her heart sank into her stomach. There was no way. Jody used to read those books about the willy-nilly-silly ol' bear to Angela, before that stupid brain tumor had robbed her of her words. No, Jody wasn't killing Eeyore. No way, nohow.

She turned her back on the abada and walked out of the jungle.

**HERE**

"That's it?" Barry blurted out. "That's the story?"

"Well, that's only the first part of the story," Jody remarked. "But you guys haven't told me how Cas and Gail and Gabriel got cured."

"We didn't have a choice," Dean told her. "We had to call Rowena."

Jody looked at him sharply. Frank's wife had been gone for so long that she had no idea that the red-haired witch was now more or less an ally, as opposed to an enemy.

"I know, right?" Frank said to his wife, noting her expression. "But she came to the bunker, and she cured them. And then, I did something incredibly stupid." He haltingly told Jody about how he had handcuffed Rowena, and tried to get her to give them her revival spell. "But that just messed everything up," Frank continued. "She said Screw You, and I ended up killing her. Or so we thought. But somehow, she survived. I remember thinking how crappy it was that she was still around, and you weren't. I just wanted you back so bad..."

Gail's brother's voice broke, and Jody took his hand. Her heart hurt for him. It must have been so hard on him. At least Jody'd had an idea that she might be able to return to him, but to her family, Jody had been dead and gone. Even Cas, who was the only one who'd known that there could possibly be a way, had given up hope.

Jody squeezed Frank's hand. "So, I guess we have to let the munchkins know that they were wrong?" she quipped.

"That's exactly what I said!" Frank exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. There, Jody thought. That was more like it. She hadn't seen her husband for so long. The last thing she'd wanted to see were tears on Frank's face. There had been enough of those before she died.

"I guess it's true what they say about couples becoming more and more alike, the longer they're married," Sam said lightly.

Dean smirked. "Yeah, well, if that's true, then why couldn't Frank be more like Jody, instead?"

That earned a laugh from everyone at the table, Frank included.

"But, you want to know something really strange?" Gail piped up. "It turned out to be a good thing she was still alive, because she's saved a few of our lives, since. Including mine. I know we're used to thinking of her as an enemy, but she's helped us out a lot in the past couple of years."

"Okie-dokie," Jody said with a raised eyebrow. "If you say so."

"If you think THAT'S weird, just wait," Rob said to his mother in a lighthearted tone. He understood what they were all doing right now. There were a lot of really bad things his Mom had yet to learn, but for the moment, they were trying to ease her back in to things. "Hold my beer," Rob added with a smile.

Bobby made a motion to take Rob's beer bottle from him, and most of them laughed again. "It's an expression, Gramps," the young man explained.

Bobby knew that, of course. He wasn't as ancient and out of it as the young ones seemed to think he was, sometimes. But Bobby had wanted to have an extra few minutes' levity, before they had to get down to the nitty-gritty. Jody had some pretty grim news in store for her.

"So, what happened after you didn't kill Eeyore?" Bobby asked Jody, stalling a bit more.


	2. It Doesn't HurtRight Now

**Chapter 2 – It Doesn't Hurt...Right Now**

Jody walked back into the jungle after turning her back on the abada. But now, she was having second thoughts. Cas had said she was supposed to kill the beasts, not feel sympathy for them. Had she blown her opportunity?

She took half a dozen steps more, and then suddenly, the landscape changed again.

Jody found herself winding through a pathway leading up a mountain. There were rocks on either side, with only sparse vegetation. Like the jungle she had just been in, the atmosphere was hot and humid. Gail would hate it here, Jody thought with bemusement. Actually, she wasn't too wild about it, either.

It was strange, though, because the higher Jody climbed, the more she could see of the ground down below, and she realized she was on an island. She could see the coastline way off in the distance, and what looked like a populous city at the edge of the beach.

Jody sighed. Now, why couldn't her beast be down there? She could use a dip, right about now. She knuckled sweat out of the corner of her eyes with the hand that wasn't holding the spear. Hey, at least she still had her weapon, this time.

But Jody had noticed something: even though she was sweaty, her eyes didn't sting. And, even though she had walked for what felt like miles now, her feet weren't sore.

The further she went up the mountain, the darker her surroundings became. By the time Jody glanced down towards the coastline again, it had disappeared. She had ascended so high that she had actually walked into a cloud. Freaky.

A shadowy figure stepped out from between two boulders, onto the pathway. Jody's eyes widened as she approached where it stood. It was a man. No; wait. It had the body of a man, but the head of a tiger. She shook her head. What was this, God's little island of misfit creatures? Or had somebody slipped her a tab of acid in the Netherworld? Jody had tried LSD just once, years and years ago. Boy, she'd heard of flashbacks, but this was ridiculous.

It opened its jaws and she tensed, expecting to hear a roar. But instead, the creature said, "I am the Maha Sona. I am the most powerful, most feared Demon to haunt this region. Do not come any closer, or I will be forced to touch you."

Jody rolled her eyes. She couldn't help it. What was this thing, the most conceited mutation in...?

"Taiwan," the Maha Sona finished her thought. "Let's just say Taiwan. It's close enough, anyway."

Jody was advancing slowly, her grip on the spear tightening. "So, you'll be forced to touch me, huh? What does that mean, exactly?"

"I can inflict the most lethal of illnesses with just one touch of my finger," the creature boasted.

Frank's wife almost wished her husband was here so that she could exchange incredulous glances with him. This Tiger Man Demon wanna-be had to be joking with this.

"Oh, so YOU'RE the one I have to thank for having had one boob, and a rotting brain?" she said sarcastically. "Well, thanks. Thanks a lot. I hate to break it to you, but I'm back to fighting shape, now. You know why? Because I'm dead, you moron! So, bring on the freaking plague, if you want! I know what to do with Demons!"

She rushed the beast with the spear held stiffly in front of her, like a jousting lance. Incredibly, It just stood there, as if assuming that she wouldn't have the nerve to attack. Jody impaled the Maha Sona with her spear, and as soon as she'd pierced Its torso, it disappeared. Unfortunately, so did the spear.

Hmmm. Jody stood there for a moment, breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush. She'd expected a much fiercer fight. She'd expected...something. Now, she was starting to wonder about these so-called "beasts". Did they actually exist, at all? Or were they only in her mind?

**HERE**

Jody looked around the table at the faces of her family members. For a moment, she was unsure if she should tell them what she'd been thinking at that point, or not. Would they think it was ridiculous?

Dean took her reticence to speak as a signal that she wanted them to talk, for a bit. As if to confirm his theory, Jody took a sip of beer, and a hit of the whiskey Frank had poured for her.

"Cas and Gail went a whole ten minutes without smooching, once," Dean wisecracked. He nudged Cas. "Remember that day?"

Cas didn't react to the gibe. He was looking at Jody speculatively. Just as there were a number of things they weren't telling her, he now had the very strong feeling that there might be one or two things that Jody wasn't telling THEM.

Frank was starting to get that feeling too, and because he knew his wife so well, he knew that they were going to have to do a lot better than that if they hoped to pry it out of her. "Your son lost his virginity," Frank wisecracked.

"Dad!" Rob exclaimed.

"Really?" Suzanne said, grinning. "And when would that have been?"

"Oh, yeah, like that didn't happen years ago," Dean chimed in.

"You're not helping, Uncle Dean," Rob pointed out.

"I thought the beasts were all in my mind," Jody said suddenly, and everyone looked at her.

She swallowed, hard. "I thought I was manufacturing those so-called beasts, out of whole cloth. I didn't really want to be in the Netherworld, so I imagined an encounter with Ammit, who bounced me from the place. The abada reminded me of Eeyore, because it represented my reluctance to say goodbye to my kids. And that Tiger thing was the cancer that ravaged my body, and made me lose my mind."

"So, those beasts were mental blocks you had to overcome?" Sam asked his friend calmly. He was intrigued, and not particularly surprised. He had studied many theories and concepts of the Afterlife, and Sam found the scenario Jody was describing to be entirely plausible.

But Cas was shaking his head. "No. No. They are not theoretical beasts. These are genuine realms."

"I know, Cas," Jody remarked, nodding. "I know. I'm only telling you guys what I felt at the time."

"Wait a minute. I'm confused," Bobby said, his forehead wrinkling. "Are the stupid things real, or aren't they?"

"Tommy was murdered," Barry blurted out.

Now, everyone's heads swiveled to look at Barry.

"I'm sorry," Tommy's widower said earnestly. "I just couldn't stand it, any more."

Most of them looked angry, but somewhat oddly, Jody looked almost relieved. She sat back in her chair, tilting her beer bottle up and draining the contents. Now we're getting somewhere, she thought to herself. She'd known they were being way too evasive with her.

Jody put the empty bottle down on the table, and as Frank reached into the cooler to get her another, his wife rose from her seat and walked over to where Barry sat at the end of the table. He stood as she approached, and the two of them embraced.

"Oh, no, Barry," Jody said, her voice muffled by their hug. "No. Not our Tommy."

For the first time in a long time, Barry felt like he was able to express his deep-seated feelings of grief. Life had gone on all around, but Barry felt like it had stopped for him. He missed Tommy so much, but no one else seemed to understand HOW much. And he hadn't even told them the worst part, yet. He pulled out of the hug, kissing Jody gently on her forehead. Her sudden appearance here was the only good thing that had happened to Barry since his husband had died. No; been murdered.

"And the worst thing, the final insult, is that his killer is getting paroled," Barry told them in a trembling voice. "His upstanding, pillar-of-the-community, so-called 'religious' parents – remember them, everyone? - have invited Del to move back in with them. Tommy's killer is moving back home, just down the street from me. Just a couple of blocks from where he killed my husband. And I'm supposed to just somehow find a way to be OK with that? But, I'm not! I'm not. THAT's the real reason I have to leave."

Jody touched Barry's face with both of her hands, wiping his tears. She was the only one here who was unaware of the circumstances behind Tommy's murder, but Jody could read between the lines, and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

"Liz was murdered, too!" Gail cried out. Frank threw her a furious look, but she shrugged. The ice had been broken now, and Jody was going to have to find out about all of these things sooner or later. Why should they pussyfoot around Jody, anyway? She had fought her way back from the dead, for God's sake.

Jody's mouth dropped open. "What? When?" she asked her sister-in-law.

Gail told her, as succinctly as possible. "She and Gabriel were going to get married, and then Lanister pops in out of the blue and kills her!" she lamented.

Jody's lips pressed together. She wondered if that was why Gabriel wasn't here. Different people processed grief in different ways, and without Liz's loving and patient influence on Gabe, Jody could picture the Archangel detaching from his family, and going it alone. Her heart hurt for Gail because she and Liz had been so close, but at least, Gail had Cas.

Cas was holding his wife's hand now, letting her grieve. He said nothing, because he knew that sometimes these feelings had to come out, or they would eat one alive. Cas was grateful to Barry for having been brave enough to broach the subject that they had all been avoiding. But the Angel was also doing the slow burn about Del's impending release. What was the matter with the alleged justice system, nowadays? Many things in the modern world were an improvement over the way they had once been, but there were times when an eye for an eye was a very attractive notion. Cas allowed himself a moment's grief over Tommy, and the fact that his friend had never received the justice that he had deserved. And now, he never would.

"Emma was murdered in Heaven, right around the same time," Bobby said in a subdued tone. "Her murder was never solved."

And then, just as Jody was moving back to her seat, absorbing the shock of all of this bad news coming at once, Rob stood from his chair, holding his arms out towards her. "Eric is dead, Mom," he said, tears streaming from his eyes. "Alice killed him, and I was there, and there was nothing I could do about it!"

Oh, God, Jody thought, her heart sinking into her stomach. Oh, God! No wonder they had all been stalling. She took her son in her arms and he laid his head on her shoulder, just like when he'd been a little boy. Only back then, he hadn't had to lean down to do it. Jody's boy was all grown up, now. So much so that he was engaged to be married. They hadn't even talked about that, yet. That was what she got for having been away so long.

As Jody comforted her son, the rest of them began to talk about Vincent's kids, and Alice's vendetta. That whole conversation morphed into the Paris trip, and the fact that a consensus had been reached after the literal and figurative smoke had cleared, that Alice had been the one responsible for the bombs at the reception hall. It was the only theory that made any sense.

Jody was horrified by the thought that Alice was still out there somewhere, intent on killing the rest of Vincent's children. She held onto her son tight for a few minutes after that, giving Rob the chance to compose himself. As heartbreaking as the situation was, a part of Jody was glad that her and Frank's son felt free enough to express his grief so openly in front of the family, and in front of the young girl he was set to marry. But then, Rob had always been a little more sensitive than other boys his age. Men, Jody amended in her mind. Other MEN his age. This was all going to take some getting used to.

Once Rob had collected himself, Jody released her son to go back and sit down next to Suzanne, who put her arm around Rob's shoulders, giving him a hug. Jody walked slowly back to her seat beside Frank, dazed. All those deaths their family had suffered, including her own. It was devastating. She looked at Frank helplessly. He had no answers for her, so he did the only thing he could do, at the moment. He popped the cap off her beer bottle, then replenished her whiskey glass.

"I hope that's one of those bottomless bottles," Jody remarked, pointing to the whiskey.

"I've got you covered, dear," Bobby said, touching his finger to the bottles on the table. The bottles refilled instantly.

This would normally be the moment that one of them would make a quip about that, but no one had the heart, right now. They were mourning their losses all over again, this time through Jody's eyes. Their family had suffered more losses in the past few years than most did in a generation.

"I used to tell myself: 'It doesn't hurt...right now'," Frank said quietly. "All those self-help books I read said that if you can get through things in small increments, the pain of your loss will hurt less."

"That sounds like a book I borrowed from the library, once," Bobby said. "I was trying to quit smoking, and..."

"You used to smoke, Gramps?" Rob asked him, drying his face with his sleeve. Jody's heart clenched. After all these years, Robbie still wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Frank had joked back then about not telling his mother about that, but Jody had known, of course. What did she care? It was one of the first things her two guys had bonded over, and you could always throw it in the laundry, couldn't you?

"Yep. Way back in the day, as the expression goes," Bobby replied. "Anyway, this book said if you can power through the nicotine craving just a few minutes at a time, it'll pass."

Frank was nodding. "Yeah, that sounds about right. So I just kept telling myself that if I could get through the next activity, and then the next, and then the next - "

"'It doesn't hurt...right now'," Barry mused aloud. "I get it. That's actually really good, Frank. You should write a book about grief, and make that the title."

Frank took Barry's hand, but he was looking at Barry. "No. YOU should," he told Tommy's widower.

Barry's first impulse was to correct Gail's brother, but then he thought about that, for a moment. He'd been about to say that Tommy had been the writer, not him. But Barry had a lot of unexpressed thoughts and emotions on the subject, and now he began to bounce the idea around in his mind. Just as Tommy's book had been a wonderful story that had been mainly geared towards a niche market, Barry realized now that the book he had already been unconsciously writing was, too. He couldn't remember ever having seen a book on grief written from the perspective of a same-sex survivor. Now THAT was a "specialty market", as Tommy's publisher would have said. But Barry didn't care about the market, he just cared about the need. There were certain issues a gay widower had that straight men would never experience. And don't even get him started on the survivors who were still unable to collect benefits, because where they lived, theirs was not deemed to be an actual marriage. He should talk to some lesbians in the community, and get some of their experiences, too. He would have to ask Frank for permission to use what Gail's brother had said as the title.

"It doesn't hurt...right now," Frank repeated, kissing Jody tenderly on the cheek.

His wife smiled, but there was a touch of sadness in her smile. So much grief. So much loss. And her family weren't the only ones who had been going through the process. Jody had been mourning the loss of her family, too. But, somewhat strangely, she had also been mourning her own death, at the same time.

**THERE**

Jody had ascended the mountain path after killing the Maha Sona, and after an indeterminate amount of time, she found herself on a plain, between some other mountains. No; wait: the summits of the rock formations were smoking. Volcanoes. Great. Fantastic.

She sighed. The only way out was through, by the looks of it. Jody mopped her brow with the palm of her hand, wiping the sweat on her jeans. It would almost be cooler in one of those craters, for God's sake. Maybe the next leap would take her to Antarctica or something, Jody thought with dry humour. But for now, it seemed like the only items on the weather menu were hot, and humid. Yippee. If and when Jody ever got back, she was going to join Gail's club, and seek out some cooler temperatures. How about a little bit of a breeze once in a while, at the barest minimum?

Then again, a breeze might not be such a terrific idea in this place. She could smell the acrid smoke drifting out of the flat peaks in the distance. If there was a breeze coming this way, her eyes might sting, and she might take on a lot of smoke. As an officer of the law, Jody had worked hand in glove with a number of firefighters, and they had always told her that smoke inhalation was the worst, because it was the most debilitating.

Realizing how ridiculous it was to be worrying about breathing in a little smoke when she was dead, Jody proceeded.

This time, the path seemed endless. Every time she looked around at her surroundings, it seemed as if there had been absolutely no change. Jody started to feel weary, and as she began to tire, she began to despair. What the hell was she doing, here? Looking for another zoo reject? What would THIS one represent? Her had-it-up-to-here-ness? Her childhood trauma, that one year she'd wanted a pony and hadn't gotten one?

She heard a hissing sound up ahead that grated on her nerves, like fingernails on a chalkboard. As she neared the source of the sound, Jody saw a large ratlike creature, with coarse fur and beady little eyes. She didn't quite share the late, lamented Chuck's phobia for those rodents, but they weren't exactly her favourites, either.

"I am the Colo Colo," it said to her in a whiny, nasal tone. "You are very tired."

Jody fixed it with a baleful glare. She was looking around her now, to see if there was anything to make into a weapon. Zip. Zero. Not even a decent-sized rock she could peg at its head. Awesome, as Dean would say.

"No, I'm not," she retorted, stalling. But even as she was saying it, Jody realized that she was lying. She WAS tired. Exhausted, in fact. She saw a boulder up ahead that had a flat surface, so she trudged over there and hiked herself up to sit on it. She closed her eyes, rubbing them with the backs of her hands. Maybe the smoke WAS getting to her, after all. She yawned. Let the stupid rat bite her. So what? She was already dead, wasn't she?

But then she felt a tickling sensation on her face, and Jody's eyes sprang open. The stupid thing was right in front of her now, leaning in towards her face! The tickle she'd felt had been from its whiskers.

Yuk! Jody jumped from her perch. "What the hell?! What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"You are tired, and I am hungry," the Colo Colo remarked petulantly. "What would be the harm? You're already dead, aren't you?"

She looked at the creature sharply. That was the exact same thought that Jody herself had just had, a moment ago. "That doesn't mean you have permission to graze on me!" she retorted in a shaky voice. "Back off, Willard!"

The creature didn't understand the reference, of course. Jody wondered if Cas would have.

"Wouldn't it be easier just to sit there on that rock, and rest?" the Colo Colo wheedled. "Aren't you tired of struggling, Jody? Everyone has moved on without you. Even if you did make it back there alive, you would be an outsider in your own life. There's a neighbour lady who's interested in replacing you, your son is a man now, and even your little girl is growing up, and making friends. If you went back now, you would just be a burden to them. An obligation."

"Shut up," Jody said to the beast. "You shut your furry little rat bastard face."

"Did I hit a nerve, Jodes?" it said in its smarmy-sounding, rat bastard voice.

"Nobody calls me 'Jodes' but my husband!" Jody shouted. She charged the creature, and it scurried backwards. She followed it, her hands curling into fists. "I've had to fight monsters like you all my life!" Jody screamed. "'You're a girl, Jody. You should be playing with dolls, not toy cars!' 'You're a woman, Jody. Nobody's going to take you seriously as a Sheriff.' 'You're a middle-aged, washed-up cop, Jody. What are you doing, having a baby at your age?'"

And it was true. All of it. What was equally disturbing was that half of the time, everything she was saying to the beast now had been coming from inside her own head.

"How are you going to kill me?" the Colo Colo snarled, although it was still retreating. "You have no weapon!"

"I don't need one," Jody said gleefully. "Burn, baby, burn!"

She advanced a couple more steps, and the creature disappeared. Jody stood triumphantly at the edge of the volcano's crater for a moment, looking down into the rising smoke. She hoped the bubbling lava was hotter than the hottest hot flash she had ever suffered.

"Burn, baby, burn," Jody repeated softly. Then she turned around and began to walk down the path, toward the next monster. Jody wasn't tired, now. No, she wasn't tired at all.


	3. The Doors Of Perception

**Chapter 3 – The Doors of Perception**

**HERE**

"Rat goulash? Excellent," Sam remarked with a huge grin.

"That's one point scored for The Chuckster," Dean added, raising his beer bottle high. They all drank to their late friend, who'd had a particular revulsion for rats.

"So, you didn't answer my question," Bobby reminded Jody after a moment's silence. "Were they real, or not?"

"Both," Jody replied, and she couldn't help but smirk as Bobby sat back in his chair, letting out a frustrated breath. She knew that look. Bobby was trying not to blow a gasket. Lucky for her that she'd just come back from the dead; otherwise, he would probably have roasted her, by now. But, it was a difficult concept for her to explain. "Sorry, Bobby," she continued, "but, what I meant was..."

"The beasts are real enough, because the beasts inside your head were real," Cas said quietly, and Jody turned to look at her brother-in-law. "Exactly!" she exclaimed.

Then, Bobby surprised them all by saying, "The Doors of Perception."

Frank's forehead wrinkled. "Uhh...what?"

"The Doors of Perception," Bobby repeated, as if the answer was obvious. "Aldous Huxley."

Only Sam was nodding. The others were all looking as puzzled as Frank.

"Jim Morrison? The Doors?" Bobby persisted.

"OK, NOW you're talking my language," Dean said. "'Break On Through To The Other Side'."

"That's right!" Jody agreed, nodding. "That's exactly right!"

"Is that some kind of dino music reference?" Rob teased his Uncle Dean.

"Yes, and no," Bobby said earnestly. "The Doors' band was named after the book. When Jody said the portal to the Netherworld was like one door after another, that's what I thought of. It sounds like these monsters are guarding the doors to come back out. It's like wrestling with the Demons inside your head. If you stop fighting and give up, you're screwed. That about sum it up?"

"That's very insightful, Bobby," Cas commented.

"I'm still confused," Nicole stated. "What's all this got to do with the Afterlife?"

"Aldous Huxley wrote a book called The Doors Of Perception, in 1954. He took the title from a line in William Blake's poem 'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell'." Sam cleared his throat, then paraphrased, 'Ancient Poets adorned Gods with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, etc. They studied the genius of every country, placing it under its mental deity'."

"The realms," Jody said, nodding again.

Dean gave his friend the side-eye. "You got THAT from THAT?" he asked her, making a face.

"Hey, I'm not just a devastatingly attractive woman," Jody retorted with a grin, "I have a brain, too."

"OK, now we know she can't possibly be taking after Frank," Gail quipped, earning a baleful look from her brother. "I'm so happy I'm just gonna let that slide," he told her. "But keep it up, and you're getting the biggest, noogiest, noogies I've ever given anyone."

"Really, Dad? Bigger than the noogies you gave me at Disneyland when we got off the Death Drop, and I puked all over you?" Rob said, nudging his father.

"Ewww," Suzanne commented, but she was smiling, too.

"Hey, don't look at me," Frank said to the young woman with a shrug. "You're the one who's marrying the guy." His grin widened. "On purpose."

"As much as I love it when we give Rob a hard time, let's get back to the subject at hand," Bobby said. "I read that book, and I thought it was mainly a bunch of drug-fuelled, psychedelic b.s. But it did produce a few gems. The phrase that stuck with me the most was: 'Men pronounced that the Gods demanded forms of worship; thus, men forgot that all deities reside in the human breast'."

Gail was fascinated. She considered herself well-read, but she had never heard of the book they were talking about. She was smart enough to make the connection, though. "So, what he was saying was that, in the establishment of organized religions, people lost sight of their true voice," she mused out loud.

Sam was smiling and Cas was nodding, but Frank was looking at his sister with a puzzled expression. So was Dean. Gail grinned. "Free Will," she translated, for the less cerebral people at the table. "Simply put: your brain is the boss. God is who you believe God to be."

Barry was following the train of thought, but he was also confused. "Isn't that blasphemy, or something?" he said uncertainly.

"Not at all," Cas stated firmly. "There is no One True Religion. There never has been. All our Father asks is for us to conduct ourselves the way we should. That's all He's ever wanted."

There was silence for a moment as everyone around the table digested this concept. Predictably enough, everybody had their own take on what was being discussed. Most were open to certain aspects of the philosophy. Somewhat surprisingly, despite his outwardly pragmatic, no-nonsense persona, Bobby was perhaps the most open to it. He had been a youth back at the tail end of the era of Free Love and expanded consciousness. In many ways, Bobby was the de facto father of Team Free Will. He had realized way back, when the Winchesters were knee-high to grasshoppers and Cas was serving faithfully if futilely in Heaven's Army, that people were ultimately what they believed in. A simple enough notion, except for the fact that humans, although they were frequently idjits, were far from simple. There was a dichotomy to most people, because, as Aldous Huxley had also said in his polarizing book, 'Both Love and Hate are necessary to human existence'."

The others sitting at the table may or may not agree, but right now, it was all about the love. Jody was back, and although her return couldn't fill the entire void which had been created with the losses of their other family members, for the moment, it was enough.

"What happened next?" Frank asked his wife, refilling her glass. Jody was bemused. She should be snockered by now, but she guessed it must be the excitement of being back with her loved ones that was mitigating the effects of the booze. All she knew was that she hadn't been able to drink like this since she'd been in her 20s.

She felt giddy now, though. Giddy enough to smile at her husband, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You'll enjoy this, Pookie. I went to Finland, next."

"Wow. That's very specific," Suzanne pointed out. A few of the others looked at her, but Jody was nodding. "That's right," she agreed with her son's fiancee. "It is. And the only reason I knew where I was supposed to be, was because when I was growing up, I had a babysitter named Magdalena. She was from Finland, and she used to tell me stories about mythological creatures from her homeland. One of the ones that stuck in my mind the most was a Pinu, which is a nasty forest spirit. After I threw that rat bastard in the volcano, I - "

**THERE**

Jody followed the path between the smoking volcanoes, which, naturally, emptied out into a lush, cool forest. Well, naturally for this place, anyway.

It didn't take very long. Or at least, it didn't feel like very long. But as Jody had noted before, time seemed very fluid here. In reality, although she wouldn't find out until much later, she had already been gone a couple of years, by this time.

A tall, thin figure rustled out from the trees. At first, Jody thought of a child, dressing up as Peter Pan for Hallowe'en, or in the school play. But then, as she peered closer, she realized that the creature wasn't dressed up in green, it actually WAS green. That was because the creature was made out of leaves, and twigs.

"I am a Pinu," it said, in a surprisingly deep tone. "You are not allowed to pass."

Jody pursed her lips together, but then she realized that she knew what this creature was. Magdalena used to tell her about the Pinu, when she was a kid. It was a nasty forest sprite, which engaged in a battle of wits with anyone who wanted to traverse through its forest. If the Pinu won, the traveller would be turned into a tree, doomed to spend the rest of eternity as part of the forest. But if the Pinu lost, it was supposed to grant the traveller a forfeit, which would consist of something that the lucky human desperately needed.

Well, what Jody desperately needed was to get the hell out of the Afterlife, she thought wryly. But she was looking around at all the trees, now. Hundreds and thousands of trees. Jody was an intelligent woman, but what she was seeing now was more than a little daunting.

She shook it off. Jody hadn't gotten this far by being timid, had she? The more hurdles she jumped, the less hurdles were ahead of her. Besides, she reminded herself, she had all of her mental faculties back now. She was sharper than she'd been in years.

"You're supposed to engage me in a battle of wits," Jody told the Pinu.

It frowned; that was, if an oversized tree branch could frown. Jody didn't care. She had this. She was an intelligent woman, and her husband was the biggest smartass in the universe. If it was wit this piece of twig wanted, that's what it would get.

**HERE**

"Hey!" Frank objected, when Jody repeated the smartass remark to her family. She'd known that would get a rise out of him.

She grinned. "Am I wrong? Should we call a vote?" She looked around the table at the others, who were all smiling.

"I'm voting twice," Dean said, throwing both of his arms in the air.

"Watch it; you're the runner-up," Jody said sharply, making them all laugh.

"If, for any reason, Frank can't fulfill his duties..." Sam wisecracked. At the same time, Gail grinned and quipped, "Gee, it's a good thing Gabriel isn't here, or that would be one hotly contested title."

Jody smirked, dipping her head in acknowledgement. Then she took another hit from her glass and said, "Anyway..."

**THERE**

"Fine. Fair enough," the Pinu said. "The first round will consist of two riddles. I will ask you one, and then you will ask me one."

"What good is that going to do?" Jody asked the forest sprite. "If we both get the answers, or if we both fail to get the answers, we'll be at an impasse."

"That's one point to you, for logic," the Pinu remarked. "Nevertheless, I will ask my riddle: What always runs, never walks/often murmurs, never talks/has a bed, but never sleeps/has a mouth, but never eats?"

Jody stared at the creature evenly. Really? As riddles went, this was a fastball, right over the plate. "A river," she said confidently.

"Correct," the woodland creature said calmly. "Now, you may give me your riddle."

Jody's mind was racing. What riddle could she possibly stump it with? Look at the multitudes of trees. The Pinu must have heard them all, by now. What on earth... Then, she thought about one they had stumped Rob with, when he'd been a teenager. She cleared her throat. "What is the only 'yes' or 'no' question you can't answer 'yes' to?"

The Pinu rustled its leaves in indignation. "That is an invalid riddle. There is more than one answer to it."

"No, there isn't," Jody argued.

"Yes, there is," it insisted stubbornly.

"The answer is: 'Are you dead?'!" Jody exclaimed. She remembered how she and Frank had looked up some riddles on the Internet, because Frank had said that it was every parent's duty to drive their kid nuts. Jody had found that funny enough to join him in the conspiracy. They'd driven Rob crazy for a few days with that one, forbidding him to look up the answer online. Good times.

"Yes, but the answer could also be: 'Are you asleep?'" it retorted.

Jody froze. Dammit! The twig was right! If and when she ever got back, she owed her son an apology. Rob had insisted there must be more than one answer to the stupid riddle, and apparently, Rob had been right. Oh, no! Did that mean that Jody had lost the battle?

"Fortunately for you," the Pinu said in its weirdly sonorous voice, "the point you earned for logic at the outset will keep you in the game."

Jody let out the breath she'd been holding as the creature continued, "The next round is a round."

Ummm...what? she thought. What did that even mean?

"It means just what it means," the Pinu said calmly, as if she'd spoken aloud.

Jody's blood began to boil. If there was anything she hated, it was vague, enigmatic bullsh-

"You will make a chain of song titles, one linked to the next, like a round," it continued on, unperturbed. "If you can form a continuous chain of seven songs, you may advance to the next round."

Jody eyed it suspiciously. She had the feeling she was being set up for the kill. That was something that Jody and her school friends used to do around the campfire, just to pass the time. Seven songs? That should be easy-peasy. Her personal best had been at least a dozen. So, why was the Pinu making it so easy for her?

Jody opened her mouth to name her first song, and then she closed it with a snap. She was drawing a complete blank.

**HERE**

"I got the yips," Jody said to her family. Bobby and Gail were nodding, but everyone else looked at her blankly.

"What's that?" Nicole asked.

Bobby and Gail looked at each other, and Gail waved her hand, gesturing to him to go ahead.

"It's a slang expression in baseball," God told the others. "I can't remember who it was who coined the term, but anyway, it refers to a player freezing up when he's supposed to throw the ball to another player, usually on a routine play."

"Exactly!" Jody exclaimed. "I thought it would be a slam dunk, to mix my sports metaphors, but when I opened my mouth to begin, I froze. There are about a billion songs. The trick is to think of a song title that ends in a word that the next song title begins with. But you have to think ahead, so you don't paint yourself into a corner. Like, for instance, if you decide to start with the Beatles' song, 'Yellow Submarine', the next song title has to start with the word 'submarine'." She looked around the table. "Anybody?"

There was silence. None of them could think of one.

"You see what I mean?" Jody said, taking a sip from her beer bottle. "It's not nearly as easy as it seems. And I had a lot riding on the game. The Pinu had already called me on my riddle. I got the feeling that I wasn't going to get another pass, if I screwed up. Lucky there was no time limit set. But it felt like I stood there for at least an hour, trying to come up with a good jumping-off point." She smiled at Frank. "Then I thought of you, and your not-so-secret guilty pleasure."

**THERE**

"'Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel'," Jody said to the Pinu. "That's my first song choice." She pictured a day, a very good day, before she'd gotten ill for the last time. Frank had been dusting the furniture in the living room, loudly blasting a CD of disco music. That song had come on, and he had grabbed her as she'd walked by, heading toward the kitchen. The two of them had danced together, laughing. Imagine if the guys could see them now, Frank had said to his wife. Screw 'em! Dip me, Jody had said, and then he had. Then one thing had led to another, and the house had remained dusty for a good two hours afterwards. Not that either of them cared.

The Pinu rustled, and a tick mark appeared in the sky above the trees.

Jody had already thought ahead, to the next song. "'Angel In My Heart'," she said firmly. She was thinking of Cas, and Gail, too. After her momentary brain freeze, she was feeling a bit more confident, now. Frank was Jody's husband and the love of her life, but if by some miracle she made it all the way back, Cas would have been her deliverance. She loved her brother-in-law and Frank's sister like family because they WERE family, but if she could somehow return to her husband and kids, Jody would owe Cas a debt of gratitude that she could never, ever repay. Not that he would ever ask her to, of course.

Another check mark appeared in the sky, and then, Jody thought of her buddy Sam. Her immediate family weren't the only ones she missed like crazy. She remembered back to when Sam used to take her to her chemotherapy appointments. The two of them would sometimes go cruising afterwards, Jody half-joking that she wanted to get something into her stomach to throw up, once the chemo took effect. They would drive to one of the diners Sam and Dean frequented, and have a big lunch. Or, if she was too nauseous to eat, they might just drive around with the radio playing, for a while. When Sam drove without Dean around, he tended to play more up-to-date pop/rock. Sam had a particular fondness for 80s music. That was why he and Gail had bonded so well musically. One day, Jody and Sam had been driving around on a spectacularly sunny day, and Jody had been near the end of her treatments. Huey Lewis had come on the radio, Sam had cranked up the volume, and they'd both sung:

"Heart And Soul'," Jody said, and a third check mark was registered.

Now, Jody thought about Dean. It was a little harder to get close to him, because the elder Winchester had an automatic defense system that was built into his psyche. But every once in a while, if Jody persisted, she and Dean were able to have a meaningful conversation. She remembered hanging around in the bunker one night, trying to sit through that movie with the Blues Brothers. Jody wasn't quite sure what it was about that movie that set her teeth on edge, but she had never liked it, despite many opinions she'd received to the contrary. That night, she and Dean had begun a conversation in the TV area that had continued until they'd gotten 'shushed' once too many times. So they'd moved to the library area, hoisted a few more drinks, and had one of the best, most heartfelt conversations they'd ever had, just the two of them.

"'Soul Man'," Jody said to the Pinu. Another check mark.

Then, Jody thought about Bobby. She wondered if he was beating himself up over the fact that he hadn't been able to locate her in the Garden. She hoped not. Jody thought that Bobby had too big of a heart to sit in the High Office, sometimes. The idea of Bobby as the Lord God had been a terrific one, but in Jody's personal opinion, God needed to bring about a little more fire and brimstone, at times. When she'd first been diagnosed with her brain tumor, Cas and Gail and Sam and Dean had gone to the Caribbean to try and put the kibosh on Vincent and whatever evil plans he had for all of them, but that had all amounted to a big, fat zero. Why couldn't Bobby just smite the crap out of the guy? Jody had asked her old friend that question, and Bobby had confided in her that he had often wondered the same thing, himself. Even way back in the day, when God had first offered Bobby the job, He'd stated that Bobby was not going to receive the full arsenal. Why? Was it more of that "leaving things status quo" crap? Bobby had fumed to Jody. She had listened to him vent, but she hadn't had much to offer in return. How in the hell should she know? A part of her wondered if the Almighty had withheld the most omnipotent of powers from Bobby and Cas because he'd been convinced that either or both of the men would use those powers rashly. That was probably more Cas than it was Bobby, but it appeared to have been a blanket policy. After all, Patricia had been God for a relatively short period of time, and she hadn't possessed any of the big-time powers either, had she? Fortunately for all of them.

"'Man In Black'," Jody said now, thinking of Bobby's soft spot for Johnny Cash.

Five songs, five marks in the sky. Two more, and she'd have aced the second round.

Jody's thoughts turned to Rob, and her heart hurt. He was a young man, now. He had Frank and the rest of the adults in their family to lean on, and he doted on Angela. She wondered what the future had in store for them. They had tried so hard to keep him out of the Hunter life, even going so far as to send him to Canada, to experience life outside that scope of influence. But she supposed it had been an inevitability, considering the type of pedigree that ran in their family.

She wanted so badly to be there, to see Rob grow older. Hopefully to marry and have kids. Now, Jody was thinking of Rob, trying to do the moonwalk on the linoleum floor in their kitchen, when he'd been a teenager. Rob had been too young to fully appreciate the genius of Michael Jackson in the entertainer's heyday, but thanks to the Internet, MJ's legacy would live on. Rob had discovered the music and the moonwalk by watching videos online, and he had gone through a phase when he'd tried to emulate his musical hero.

"'Black Or White'," Jody said, smiling fondly. Six.

White. The word was white, and she couldn't think of a damn thing. Jody racked her brain. Oh, come on, Jodes. There had to be a good half-dozen, if not more.

**HERE**

"With apologies to Nicole and Dean, I started thinking of what else I might miss, in the future," Jody told everyone now with a thin smile. "Not to put anyone on the spot or anything, but I wondered if the two of you might tie the knot, one day."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute, and then Dean said softly, "Hey, you never know." He and Nicole were looking at each other now. Whatever they were thinking, it was not the time or context for that conversation.

Jody cleared her throat. "Anyway, as soon as that thought entered my mind, I had it..."

**THERE**

"'White Wedding'!" she said triumphantly, and the Pinu rustled again. This time, it shook so violently that a few of its leaves fluttered to the ground.

"That's seven," Jody said matter-of-factly.

"Fine," the forest creature remarked, "but there is one more round to go."

Jody let out a breath. Of course. Of course there was.

"It is but a simple question: Are you prepared to do what needs to be done?" it asked her in an even tone.

Jody looked at the Pinu with a baleful expression. And they'd been communicating so well, too. Maybe it was angry that she'd passed the last challenge so easily, but that wasn't Jody's problem, was it? She was fighting for her life, here. But if there was anything she couldn't stand, it was vague, enigmatic -

"Then, I'll make it clear for you," the Pinu said bluntly. "When the time comes, will you be prepared to destroy that which you love the most, in order to save the world?"

**HERE**

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Frank said angrily, and his wife nodded.

"I know. That's what I thought, too," she replied, taking a swig from her whiskey glass. "So, I said the only thing I could say, given the circumstances."

**THERE**

"To save the whole world? Well then, yeah. Yeah, I guess I would have to," Jody told the Pinu.

There was silence for a moment. Jody held her breath. She had equivocated with her answer. Hedged. She knew she was supposed to say Yes to the question, and really, if Jody was one of the good guys, she SHOULD say Yes. But "destroying that which she loved the most"? Jody wasn't sure if she could sign off on that. And what was this "saving the world" stuff all about, anyway? Was the question hypothetical, an intellectual exercise, only? Or was there something brewing on Earth that she was going to have to deal with, if and when she returned?

Finally, the Pinu said, "You may pass." But Jody didn't budge. "Where's my forfeit?" she asked it.

The forest creature rustled again. Presumably, that was its way of expressing consternation. Maybe it was hoping she'd forgotten about that little part of the legend. "Very well," the Pinu said. "Come here, and receive it."

Jody moved forward cautiously, but the Pinu made no move towards her. She saw a small box laying there on the forest floor, and the drawstring bag that Jody had let Cas hold when she'd first arrived at the house was laying there next to the box. She scooped up both items, putting the box in the bag, and tying the bag to the waistband of her jeans.

She looked at the area where the Pinu had been, but it was gone.

**HERE**

"I'll take that bag back now, Cas," Jody said, and her brother-in-law looked at her curiously. She had a certain tone to her voice that he couldn't quite identify. But the forfeit was hers, and it had been well-earned, by the sounds of it. Strange, though. As he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket to retrieve it for her, it occurred to Cas that the bag was misshapen, and much too heavy to contain only the small box Jody had described. But her tale wasn't over yet. Nor were theirs. He slid the bag across the table to her, and she nodded her head briefly in acknowledgement.

"So, what was the Pinu talking about?" Jody asked aloud, looking around at the faces of each of her family members in turn. "What are you guys not telling me?"


	4. I Want To Go Back There, Again

**Chapter 4 – I Want To Go Back There, Again**

There was a period of silence once more, and then Rob said, "So what happened after you-"

"No." Jody interrupted her son. "No more evasion. Look, everybody, I appreciate what you've been trying to do, here. Really, I do. But I'm still me, I'm back now, and I'm not made of sugar. Whatever it is, I'm ready to help kick it in the ass."

Sam sighed heavily. "You were asking earlier about Brian," he remarked, but then, he faltered. How did he even begin?

Jody's expression brightened. "Yeah, how is he? Where's Becky, or did the two of you reach an understanding?" She grinned, but upon seeing the uncomfortable glances everyone exchanged, Jody's smile faded. "What?" she asked them. "What's the matter?"

It was Dean who blurted it out: "Brian's 'Damien', now. He's nine frickin' years old, and he's the Beast of the Apocalypse. He killed Becky. The little bastard's somewhere out there, hanging around with Abbadon, a dead Demon-Angel I killed years ago, and Gail's father Vincent, who nobody can kill, and they're all looking for a False Prophet, so they can destroy the world. There. Now, you're all caught up. Good times, right?"

Jody was incredulous. Actually, she was beyond incredulous. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but nothing came out. Finally, she took a huge sip from her glass of whiskey and said, "Boy, oh, boy. You know you're having a bad day when the Afterlife looks like the preferable option," she said wryly. "I think I almost want to go back there, again. At least there, I had a fighting chance."

No one said anything for a minute, because they all understood how she must be feeling.

"We've got an entire team of Angels working on locating them," Cas said quietly. "Kevin's been working day and night."

Jody nodded. "Oh. Well, if that's the case, I'm sure he'll figure it out. Kevin's a smart cookie. He sure came through with those Utterances."

"I was wondering how those came into play," Cas commented.

"I'll tell you, but then, you guys are going to 'fess up to everything," Jody said, pointing her finger at each family member. "If I know you all – and I do – I know we're not done, yet."

She took a deep breath. "Next, I ran into the Aitu."

"Bless you," Frank quipped, but he took his wife's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Jody was a badass, but a person could only withstand so many shocks at once.

Jody gave him a thin smile. She let out a breath, and then she began to talk again.

**THERE**

She stepped out of the forest and found herself in a desert. Too bad. She had been enjoying the cool shade that all those trees had provided. Then, she shuddered. Maybe "enjoy" was the wrong word. If things had gone a different way, she could have ended up BEING one of those trees.

Jody trudged in the heat for a while, and then she stopped beside a large rock. It was big enough to cast a shadow, so she slumped to the sand and sat in the only shade she'd seen for miles, wishing she had a canteen.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" she heard an angry voice say. Jody looked around her, seeing nothing, and no one.

Well, not quite nothing: there was a fair-sized cactus opposite the rock. Aww, geez.

"Never mind who I am. Who are YOU?" she asked the cactus irascibly. It was a good thing no one was here to see this, Jody thought. How pathetic. I'm talking to a pincushion.

"I am an Aitu," the cactus replied, because, of course it did. "I am a demi-god, which can assume the shape of any plant, or animal."

"So, you're a shapeshifter," Jody said calmly.

"No; I am a god," the cactus insisted.

Whatever, Jody thought. She was in no mood for semantics. She struggled to her feet, digging into her pockets for a tissue. It was a reflex action on her part. When she'd been alive on Earth, Jody had almost always had some tissues stashed somewhere on her person. But she had none, of course. Who the hell buried someone with tissues in their pockets? Usually, the people who needed the tissues at a funeral were the live ones, not the dead.

She'd wanted to use them to wipe the sweat from her forehead, but what Jody came up with instead was the list of Utterances that Cas had put in her pocket.

"You will perish from dehydration here," the Aitu said matter-of-factly.

Jody ignored it for the moment, looking at the piece of paper blankly. Cas had seemed to think she would need it, for some reason. Why? She could hardly use it as a weapon, unless she was looking to kill one of these stupid creatures with a thousand tiny paper cuts. She peered at the paper more closely. Seven Utterances, seven continents. But she'd been successful in crossing from one realm to the next without using any of this stuff, so far.

It was just as well, too, because she couldn't make hide nor hair of what Cas had written here, anyway. It must be what he called "the ancient language". Keeping half an eye on the cactus, she tried to read the first Utterance out loud. "Peaque yert zasu?" she ventured. It sounded wrong coming out of her mouth, but Cas had written the words out alphabetically, not phonetically, so Jody's pronunciation left a little to be desired. It would have been impossible for her to read the language in its true form, as the phrases consisted of symbols, not words. The ancient language was one of the most difficult to master. Even Castiel sometimes still had trouble deciphering its more arcane terms.

Mispronunciation or not, the syllables she'd spoken had the desired effect: the barrel of the cactus burst open, showering Jody with cool, refreshing water. There was so much water, in fact, that she was able to cup her hands and have a couple of decent sips of it before it dissolved into the sand. Grit notwithstanding, it was the best drink of water she'd had in years, made even better by the fact that the cactus had now been destroyed. Had that been it? Was she released?

Jody stood, shaking the excess water from herself like the family pet. Then she looked at the piece of paper she still held in her hand, and her heart sank. Great. The thing was soaking wet. Had it served its purpose? But if that was the case, why were there seven Utterances? Aww, geez. What if she needed the other six phrases? She was still standing here in the desert, wasn't she?

She moved quickly out of the boulder's shadow. Maybe if she could put the paper in the sun to dry it out...

Jody's jaw dropped. As soon as she was back under the sun, the paper dried instantly, and the words on it were as legible as they had been before. Amazing.

She stashed the paper back in her pocket for safekeeping, letting out a relieved breath. Crisis averted. Jody was a pragmatic individual for the most part, but she chose to take it as some kind of a sign. Divine intervention, maybe. There wasn't much room for logic in the Afterlife, anyway. She'd just been talking to a cactus.

She trudged her way across the desert, waiting for something else to happen. The cool water that had drenched her skin and clothes evaporated almost instantly. Great.

Jody saw something moving up ahead, and as she neared the source of the movement, she could see that it was a medium-sized bird, ruffling its feathers.

"You will die here in the desert, and the vultures will feed on you," the Aitu said in a strange, singsong tone.

Jody stopped short. She eyed the creature. "You know, I have no idea why all of you keep saying that. Don't you guys read your e-mails? I'm already dead."

"Death takes many forms," the bird said, pecking at the sand.

"Yeah? Well, I've got something to say about that," Jody said, reaching into her pocket for the piece of paper. She looked at the second Utterance. "Agral boc gin majora," Jody said aloud, feeling a little foolish. How did she even know this was going to work? Maybe the cactus had simply exploded because the heat had baked the crap out of it. She could certainly relate. This was worse than the worst hot flash she had ever had.

But the bird's head jerked up from the sand, and its beak opened wide. A plume of smoke issued forth and took to the sky, disappearing an instant later.

Huh. Jody stood there for a moment, the intense heat temporarily forgotten. That had been interesting. Sort of like a Demon, smoking out of a human body. She looked at the Utterances. Were the phrases mini-exorcisms?

**HERE**

"So that's what I did," Jody told her family now. She paused to take an extra gulp of beer, then held the beer bottle to her head for a moment. Frank had glanced at Bobby a short while ago, nodding his head to the cooler that was sitting on the patio beside Frank's chair. Bobby had gotten the message. He'd pointed a finger at the cooler, instantly replenishing it with beer and lots of ice.

It was one of those ice-cold bottles that Jody was cooling off with, now. Her account of her time in the desert, driving the Aitu out of its vessels one by one using the Utterances that Cas had tucked into her pocket at the funeral home, was riveting. They were all astonished as she described how the entity had jumped from plant to animal and then back again, saying how Jody was never going to escape the desert. She was never going to see her family again. She should just lay down, give up, and let the buzzards feed on her. And it wasn't just what the Aitu was saying, it was the fact that with every exorcism, its behaviour had become more and more aggressive. By the sixth Utterance, it had taken the form of a creeping vine, despite there being no trees or any other sort of vegetation in the desert. It had simply popped out of a sand dune and wrapped itself around Jody's legs, attempting to topple her. She'd been able to read the Utterance just before losing her footing, watching the plant wither and die at her feet. That had been a close one. And then had come the final Utterance for the final incarnation, which had been a roaring lion. Jody had managed to scream out the last phrase just before its jaws closed down on her throat.

With the final phrase having been spoken, the lion disappeared, Jody told everyone. But she had heard a "thunk" sound, and once the danger had passed she'd noticed something white laying on top of the sand. Fangs! Jody picked one up, turning it around in her hand. Unbelievable. The lion's teeth went into the drawstring bag.

"So THAT'S why the bag felt so heavy and misshapen," Cas commented, and Jody paused. "We'll get there," she said enigmatically, and Dean nearly laughed out loud at the expression on Cas's face. His Angel friend obviously wasn't used to being on the receiving end of an Angel-type answer.

"But, you guys – and ladies – know what I'm looking for, now," Jody went on, looking around the table. "So far, you've told me about Vincent, and Damien, and Alice. Who are we leaving out?"

They exchanged looks, and then Gail cleared her throat. "Patricia, Xavier, and Mark," she said bluntly.

"Mark?!" Jody exclaimed. She put her beer bottle down on the table with a bang. "Mark?" she said again, looking at Rob. "THAT Mark?"

Cas was looking grim. "Yes," he confirmed. "All three of them are at large. We have been dealing with the most immediate threats, but eventually, they must be located. Patricia is unbalanced, but she has thus far presented no threat. Xavier and Mark are craven cowards, who should be easily apprehended." He frowned, glancing quickly in Bobby's direction. Cas was no longer God, of course, but it was his opinion that the fugitives should have been located and dealt with a long time ago. If Cas was still occupying the High Office, none of those three would be alive, today. Bobby was obviously taking the more compassionate approach, but in Cas's view, Bobby was wrong. Maybe Cas should consider speaking to someone else about the situation, and see what could be arranged. If Bobby had a problem with it, Cas might just have to remind him that Liz would still be alive had Lanister not been at large from Hell, along with Mark and Xavier. The fact that they hadn't actually known the men had been at large from Hell until it was too late was a detail that Cas was conveniently prepared to ignore. The bottom line was that Gabriel had taken care of what Bobby was seemingly unable or unwilling to. Castiel's Brother had done the right thing by tracking down and holding Lanister, and Gabriel had also done exactly the right thing when he had called Castiel in to help interrogate Lanister. The fact that the questioning had not borne any fruit was regrettable, but the end result had been satisfactory. Lanister had perished in the Lake of Fire, a fitting demise for such a horrible individual. It was a shame that Gabriel had become so unreliable as of late, or Castiel might be able to rely on his Brother for assistance in tracking the others down. Maybe Cas would make the request, anyway. His own focus had to remain on the imminent threat that Vincent posed to them all.

Frank was holding Jody's hand again. "It's OK, Babe," he reassured her. "I know it sucks, but we just have to take care of what we can take care of. Cas and I - " He bit off his sentence. Oh, crap. He'd been about to say that he and Cas had taken care of Ilya Yelchin just recently, the Russian gangster who'd been after Suzanne. But maybe that wasn't such a hot idea, right now. Jody knew nothing about Suzanne, or the circumstances surrounding the situation. She hadn't even known there WAS a Suzanne, until a couple of hours ago. The matter had been handled, and they had hammered Jody with so much bad news already. It would be hard enough for Suzanne to ingratiate herself with her future mother-in-law, as it was. Jody had a loving heart, but she was also a bit of a Mama Bear, sometimes. Maybe they should give the women a bit of time to get acquainted, first.

"Cas and you...what?" Jody asked her husband, prompting him for the rest of his sentence.

"Hey, that could be a new game!" Rob enthused. He let out a breath, thanking his Dad with his eyes. But they needed a distraction, now. "Finish that sentence, everybody. Cas and me...were Knighted by the Queen."

Suzanne knew what Rob's family were like by now, and she wanted to be included in their silly games. So she said, "Cas and me...invented the computer."

Gail was looking at the young people, a confused look on her face. What were they - ? Ohhh. The light dawned. They were trying to provide a distraction. Jody was starting to get that Sheriff look on her face again. They all loved Jody, and Gail was thrilled beyond measure that her sister-in-law had come back to them, but nobody could stand up to the scrutiny of the Sheriff look. Gail had better pipe up here, or they were all toast.

"Cas and I - " Gail started to say, pointing a finger at the young engaged couple, " - that's the proper grammar, BTW," she added, pretending to be stern. Then, she smiled at her husband. "Cas and I..."

Glomp. All of a sudden, Frank's big hand clamped over his sister's mouth. He was smirking. "Everybody's an adult here, so we all know what you and Cas like to do," Frank remarked. "That doesn't mean we wanna hear about it."

Everybody had a laugh, and then Jody took a drink. Sensing the moment of danger had passed, Frank removed his hand from Gail's face.

"Lucky you did that. I was just about to bite you," Gail said to her brother. She took a sip of her drink, rinsing her mouth. Then, she made a face. "Ewww. Brother cooties."

Dean was looking back and forth, from one sibling to another. "What are you guys, seven?" he said disgustedly.

"Oh, right. Says the guy who held me down and gave me noogies for about half an hour," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

Dean shrugged. "Hey, that's what kids do, sometimes."

"That was last week!" Sam exclaimed, and everyone laughed again.

The potential land mine averted for the moment, Bobby said to Jody, "So, where did you have to go next?"

Mark and Elijah were sitting in Brother Eli's office, having a drink.

Initially, the False Prophet had been prepared to dismiss Mark's claim. A Gospel writer, here in the backwoods of Canada? Yeah. Right. But then, Mark had waved his hand airily, and told Eli to grab his Bible.

"Turn to the Gospels of Mark, and put your finger on any verse. Read me the verse number only, and I'll tell you what I wrote," Mark said smugly.

Elijah looked at him, skeptical, but he complied, leafing through the Bible. After the third time, although his visitor had gotten every word absolutely correct, Eli had closed the Bible with a snap.

"Very impressive," the cult leader remarked in a dry tone. "All that proves is that you have an excellent memory. My father could quote the Scriptures, too. So can I. Who are you, really?"

"I am who I say I am," Mark said calmly, even though he was annoyed. What was it with all these religious freaks, anyway? Present them with the genuine article, and they didn't believe. Meanwhile, they told their followers to chew, swallow and digest all manner of garbage, until they asked for seconds. The man sitting on the other side of the desk was the impostor, not Mark. Just because Mark had been credited with writing the Gospels that he hadn't exactly composed so much as reworded, that didn't make him an impostor. As far as Mark was concerned, he had the Biblical pedigree. The False Prophet was just that: fake. The guy was good-looking and he obviously had a good line, based on the ratio of female to male followers he had. But when Mark had received the Vision, telling him to come here, he'd seen that "Brother Eli" was floundering. His numbers had stalled, and many locals thought of him as a crackpot. That was no way to run a railroad. Mark should seek Elijah out and help him grow his congregation, the Voice had said.

Once he'd been shown where he was supposed to go, Mark had set off. Like anyone else, he'd needed a purpose once he'd gotten back to Earth, something to keep him going. Xavier and Patricia had formed their straitlaced, lemon-sucking, no-fun partnership, and Mark wanted nothing to do with it. The two of them were talking about taking back the reins in Heaven, using words like "pious" and "righteous", and Mark had zero interest in those things. Now that he was back on Earth, he wanted to indulge in Earthly things.

Mark hadn't been as endowed with certain powers as he had been before his demotion to Hell, but he'd still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Let me ask you something, Eli," he said, leaning back in his chair. "How do you think you're going to command respect with this puny little congregation you've got? Do you really think the Unholy Trinity will want anything to do with a two-bit commune like this one, here? We're talking about a New World Order. The big leagues. I'll tell you what: I'll make you a deal."

Eli's eyebrow raised. This man didn't sound like a religious figure, at all. He sounded like a con man. On the other hand, even though he was being condescending and insulting, the stranger obviously had some knowledge about Elijah's true purpose.

"If I agree to deal with you, I'll need proof that you are who you say you are," the False Prophet said calmly.

Mark sighed. He should have figured as much. He pointed to the computer on Eli's desk. "Is that thing on?"

"No. Why, do you want me to - ?" Eli made a motion to turn on the monitor, but Mark said, "No. Leave it off. You wanted proof that I am legitimate? Let me show you what I know about you."

He waved his hand, and the computer screen came on of its own accord. "Let me show you your Past," Mark said to the cult leader. Suddenly, Eli was seeing his childhood Bible readings, in the sitting room of the house. Their father was reading the Scriptures aloud to the four boys and one girl, quizzing them on what he had been reading. There would be no daydreaming tolerated. Their mother would be knitting, or mending the kids' clothes, listening intently. Once in a while, she would contribute something to the teachings, but only after receiving a nod of permission from her husband, first.

"This is your Present," Mark said calmly, waving his hand again. The scene switched to the police station in town. The officers who had interviewed Brother Eli a while back about young Wendy and her pregnancy were sitting around over coffee, making jokes about Eli, his followers, and the commune. Elijah's blood boiled. They were NOT a "commune"; they were a religious order.

"You see what I mean?" Mark commented, pointing to the screen. "They think you're a joke. If you want to be revered, you have to step up and take the reins. I can help you with that. I can put some fire and brimstone into your sermons. I'll write the Gospel of the New Order. The anti-Gospel, if you prefer. We will write the new Bible according to our terms, and we will be the ones who rule."

Eli looked at him, impressed. He hadn't thought much of his visitor when the man had first arrived, but now, he was saying exactly what Elijah wanted to hear. Maybe Mark was who he'd said he was, after all. But still, Eli was reticent. "How are you going to accomplish that?" he asked Mark warily.

Mark let out a frustrated breath. He was starting to get really annoyed, now. He was offering this piddly human everything, on a plate. "Let me show you the Future," he said through gritted teeth, waving his hand one more time.

The image on the computer screen changed to one of Elijah himself, clad in golden robes. He was on a big stage, striding from one end to the other, preaching to a congregation of thousands. People were shouting, "We love you, Father Eli!", and the girls in the front row were swooning. It was just like the old footage he had seen of The Beatles' fans at live concerts. All for him. All for him.

Then the scene shifted to Vincent, who was standing high on a hillside with his arms spread wide. The remains of a fire smouldered at his feet, and as Eli peered closer, he could see bones arranged all around the fire circle, and a skull in the middle. A tiny skull, as if it had come from an infant.

Then he could see an Army of Angels, fighting an Army of Demons. The Angels were led by a tall, handsome man and a diminutive woman with big, brown eyes, who were using silver blades to fell the forces of Evil. The Angels were vastly outnumbered, but they were holding their own. Meanwhile, humans were battling creatures that had crawled out of the earth, like the worst and most horrifying zombie movie that had ever been made.

"The war will be protracted and bloody, but the righteous will fall," Mark intoned, sounding just like the Gospel writer he held himself out to be. He was staring off into the distance now, receiving a Vision of some sort. It was unclear where these sudden Visions were coming from, but Mark welcomed them. They reassured him that he'd done the right thing in coming here.

And there was one other bit of knowledge Mark had that Eli did not: Mark now knew that at least one member if their team would not live to enjoy the fruits of their victory. He wasn't being shown which of them would fall, but Mark intended to make damn sure it wasn't going to be him.

"Let's talk about our arrangement," the Gospel plagiarist said to the False Prophet.

"My second-last stop? New Mexico," Jody told her family. "Hot, dry, and desolate. I know; what a shock, right?"

"New Mexico?" Nicole said in a surprised tone. Then, it occurred to her what Jody must be talking about: "Did you have a negative experience in New Mexico in the past?"

Jody eyed Dean's girlfriend for a moment. No, she amended to herself. Nicole was not just Dean's girlfriend; she was a friend to all of them. Jody didn't know the Canadian woman very well, but the fact that she was still here with Dean after all these years was a real testament to Nicole, in Jody's opinion. As one of Dean Winchester's oldest friends who just happened to be a female, Jody was very aware that he could be far from the easiest man to love, sometimes. Dean had his demons and his flaws and a whole carousel full of baggage, and any woman who was both willing enough and strong enough to take all of that on had to be remarkable, in Jody's book. She made a mental note to try to get to know Nicole better, once this whole back-from-the-dead thing was resolved within her own family. There was still Angela to worry about. How was she going to react? Fortunately, their little daughter had experience with otherworldly beings. Hopefully, that would make the situation easier for Angela to accept. Jody's eyes prickled and her throat closed up a bit when she thought about how big Angela would be, now. Look at Rob. He was a full-grown man, engaged to be married. Jody's son was engaged. It was unbelievable. But, looking on the bright side, at least Jody hadn't missed the wedding. She looked at Frank, and the spouses smiled warmly at each other. Jody was going to get to dance with Frank at their son's wedding. No matter what else they would have to sort out, Jody felt like she was the luckiest person on Earth right now.

But there was a story to finish, first. "You're exactly right," Jody told Nicole. "Because I had such a negative experience in New Mexico, I associated this place with it."

"What happened to you in New Mexico?" Barry asked her, curious.

Jody shook her head. "Oh, no. No tangents. Suffice it to say that I attended a Sheriff's convention there about a million years ago, and it didn't go very well. Of course, it's all still relative, isn't it? In retrospect, I'd much rather deal with a couple of hundred chauvinist pigs than one Piasa."

"Piasa? Didn't he used to play for the Mets?" Frank quipped.

Jody looked at her husband. "It's good to see that some things haven't changed," she remarked dryly.

"Yeah. After all these years, you're still not funny," Dean said to Frank. Gail's brother pretended to have an itch, scratching his cheek with his middle finger. Dean smirked.

"If the kids are finished, I'll move on," Jody said, rolling her eyes. "You should have seen this thing. It was

**THERE**

It was a dragon. That was Jody's first impression of the thing, anyway. But the creature wasn't nearly as large as the dragons in those boy wizard movies. It was about the size of a small horse, but in every other way its appearance was pretty much the same as she had always imagined any dragon would look. If dragons had been real, that was. Then again, maybe they were. Maybe here, they were.

The Piasa was certainly real enough, and it was snarling at Jody, showing her its huge teeth. "I am a Piasa," Jody heard it say in a harsh, grating voice. It pawed the ground, shaking its head from side to side. There were sharp-looking horns on its brow, and the Piasa's torso was covered with scales. She could see that it also had a barbed tail, which was twitching furiously.

"I eat the flesh of humans," the Piasa rasped. "You are the first one to make it this far in centuries. Maybe even millenniae. But it is my job to see that you don't get any further ahead, and I intend to do my job."

"Oh? And what do you plan to do to stop me?" Jody had said warily. Her heart sank into her stomach. Great. Just great. She had counted in her head: this was her sixth realm, and her sixth creature. Cas had advised that she could expect seven. But she had to get through this one first, didn't she? And, once again, she had no weapon. They were standing in the middle of a barren desert. Too bad she didn't even have any more Utterances to try, but she'd used up the last one on the-

Wait. Maybe she DID have a weapon. Jody reached slowly into the drawstring bag, keeping her eye on the Piasa the entire time, watching for any sudden movement. But it merely waited there, snorting and gnashing its teeth. It was as if the thing was curious to see what she was going to do next.

Jody was going to do the only thing she could do: fight, with everything she had. Fight, just like she had fought all throughout her life. When those bullies had followed her home after school, threatening to beat her up if she didn't let their ringleader copy her paper for the final English test, before summer break. When she'd gone out with that guy down the block when they were both in high school, and he'd become a human octopus on the way to the restaurant. He hadn't even bought her dinner first, before deciding that No really meant Yes. She'd given him a lesson on being a gentleman that he would never forget. And when the officers in her charge had decided to test Jody's boundaries, she'd had to fight again, for the respect that any male Sheriff would have been automatically afforded just by showing up.

Just like she'd had to fight the breast cancer that had robbed her of her breast, her hair, her health, her sex drive, and her dignity. But Jody had fought it, and she'd come out on top. She'd gotten everything back but her breast, and really, who cared? At the end of the day, a boob was just a boob, wasn't it? If a woman's self-worth was determined by something like that, then she had bigger problems. It had taken a little while for Jody to admit that to herself, but she had come to believe it, with her entire heart and soul.

And yes, she had ultimately lost the last battle she'd ever had to fight in life, the one against the brain tumor. But as it had turned out, that hadn't actually been Jody's last fight, after all. Maybe she would never stop having to fight. Maybe, the people who rested in peace were the people who had just given up.

She took one of the lion's fangs out of the bag, gripping it tight in her fist. "You think you can take me, you ugly Hogwarts reject? Bring it on!" Jody shouted. She rushed the Piasa.

**HERE**

"I guess there's not too much suspense to the rest of the story, since I'm sitting here," Jody remarked, taking a big swallow from the whiskey glass. "But, put it this way: I wouldn't recommend wrestling with a Piasa when you're armed with only one tooth. As it is, I don't know exactly how I killed the stupid thing. I think there might have been some poison imbedded in the fang." She put her hand on the cloth drawstring bag, which was still sitting in front of her on the table. "I have the other one in here. Maybe you can take it to your lab guy, Sam. If it's a viable weapon, maybe you guys can keep it in the bunker, just in case...well, just in case."

They were all silent for a minute, and then Jody sat back in her chair, looking at the Angels. "So, what are we looking at? Another damn Apocalypse?" she said bluntly.

"We don't know, exactly," Bobby replied, frowning. He nodded his head towards Cas. "These guys say it's gonna be some kind of 'apocalyptic event', whatever that means."

"If I knew, I would have told you," Cas said. There was more than a trace of irritation in his tone. He'd told Bobby that Damien was the Beast, too, hadn't he? Sam and Dean, also. But none of them had believed him, at the time.

"All we know is that Vincent's looking for the False Prophet to complete his happy little team," Bobby said, ignoring Cas's tone for the moment. "Vincent, Abbadon, Damien, and the False Prophet. Once all four of them are together, and Damien turns ten in November, they're gonna do...something. None of us know what. But if we don't find them and stop them, we're all toast. Welcome back, dear," he said sardonically.

Jody's lips pressed tightly together. "Well then, we'd better get the hell ON that, wouldn't you say? I didn't come all the way back from Monster Funland only to see the world end." She was thoughtful for another minute. "You know what? I don't mean to be telling you Angels your business, but..."

Gail's mouth twitched, despite the seriousness of the topic. She'd heard the tone in Cas's voice, and based on Bobby's expression, so had he. Thank goodness the warm and fuzzy feelings they all had over Jody's return still prevailed, or there would probably have been an argument about who had believed who, and when. And Gail would have to come down firmly on Cas's side. Not because he was Cas, but because he was right. Gabriel had been on their side too, but Gabriel's track record for credibility hadn't been so hot, lately.

Jody wasn't finished. "When I was sick, I spent a lot of time just sitting around in bed. There was a Bible on my nightstand, and I was bored. Sorry, Cas, no offense."

Cas gave her a tight smile, but said nothing. He was wondering where she could possibly be going with this. Castiel had admittedly not studied the Bible as closely and carefully as he probably should. But because many of the writings in it had been doctored, ghostwritten, or obfuscated over the ages, as a reference book, it left much to be desired. Humans had no idea. Absolutely none.

"I remember reading about Abbadon, in Revelations," Jody went on. "The Angel of the Abyss."

Castiel's head snapped up. "Abbadon is mentioned in Revelation as the Angel of the Abyss?" he said sharply. Since when? He didn't even bother to correct her use of "Revelations" rather than "Revelation". Nearly every human Cas had ever met made that mistake.

"Yeah, Cas," Jody said softly. She was puzzled. Shouldn't he know? Cas was actually IN the Bible. In the very first chapter, in fact.

"Do you mind if I have a look at that?" Cas asked their newly-returned friend. Then he realized that might have been a ridiculous question. "That is, if it's still..." he trailed off, embarrassed.

"Oh, it's still there," Frank said, anticipating what his brother-in-law had been about to say. "Everything's exactly the same as it was."

Jody's nose wrinkled. "Geez, I hope you did a laundry, at least," she quipped, and her husband laughed.

Cas popped out without another word, and the rest of the family exchanged bemused glances. They were used to that sort of behaviour from him, but none of them knew exactly how upset Castiel was feeling at the moment, not even Gail. If Abbadon had been named in the Bible as the Angel of the Abyss, and if that passage had been there this entire time, shouldn't he have known about that? And, come to think of it, why was an abomination like Abbadon being described as an Angel, anyway? Perhaps he'd been looking at this all wrong. If Crowley couldn't, or wouldn't, locate Abbadon using Hell's methods, maybe Castiel should be using Heaven's.

He stood there in Frank and Jody's bedroom, leafing through the Bible that had been sitting on the nightstand, as Frank had promised that it would be. Cas allowed himself a small smile as he thought about the joyous reunion that Frank and Jody would be having in the room later this evening, when the family all went home. Normally, his mind wouldn't turn to such a personal matter, but Cas couldn't help but make a mental comparison to how it had been for himself and Gail, when they had reunited after having been torn apart. Each and every time. Cas was beyond ecstatic that what he had done that day at the funeral home had helped Jody to return, but now that the dust had settled a bit, he was starting to wonder if there would be some repercussions stemming from what he had done. Weren't there always, in one form or another? But he'd had to try. Jody's death had arguably been the most heart-wrenching loss of all of them. It had sent ripples of devastation through the entire family, and it had been so patently unfair. Jody had battled through breast cancer, and come out the other side. Then she had had an adorable baby girl, and she had been working tirelessly and for very little credit on behalf of a charity organization that raised funds for and helped cancer patients. Before Jody had gotten too sick to function effectively, she had helped many others who had been afflicted with the same disease. How was it fair, then, that Jody had died of a different version of the same virulent disease, a few short years afterwards?

But God the Father didn't necessarily care about what was right, or what was fair. If He did, or ever had, there wouldn't have been so many of the injustices Castiel had seen over the aeons. Cas knew better than almost anyone how brutally violent his human descendants could be, but it was God who had created man – and woman, he thought with a brief smile, thinking of Gail and her feminist sensibilities – in His own image, as the cliché had always gone. But Cas remembered a time when he and Gail had sat in the Father's office, hearing Him speak about the inhumanity of humanity as being one of the main reasons He had chosen to retire. Everyone had always thought of God as being omnipotent, but many things which had occurred in recent years had made Castiel reconsider that way of thinking. Cas had become a great proponent of Free Will ever since making the Winchesters' acquaintance, and he saw no reason to change that approach. God may or may not help those who helped themselves, but that didn't really matter to Cas. As he and his group had demonstrated in Paris recently, they were fully capable of taking care of business on their own.

There. There it was. Revelation, 17:14. Hmm. Jody's Bible was worded a little differently than those he was used to seeing. The language was more simplistic, for one thing. But this was Revelation, all right:

"The Beast shall make War with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome them, for he is the Lord of lords, and King of kings, and they that are with him are called, and chosen, and faithful."

Cas closed the Bible and put it down gently, his expression thoughtful. Odd that he'd seen no mention of Abbadon. Maybe that was in a different place. But, in any event, none of what he'd just read surprised him, not particularly. Ever since Castiel had been in the way of knowing that Brian, aka Damien, was the Beast, Cas had been certain that it was his mission to defeat the Unholy threat that Vincent, Abbadon and Damien represented. What he had just read merely bolstered his belief, especially since the passage referred to "the Lamb". Back in the days when Lucifer had been loosed upon the Earth, Castiel had come to the realization that it was he, Castiel, who was the Lamb. It had been gratifying to read that he and his human and Angel family would prevail, but Castiel's heart had been heavy when he'd read that there would be a War. Did that really have to come to pass? Or could war be avoided if, as Frank had suggested a while back, one or more of the evil forces could be eliminated before the Beast came of age?

Frank! Here was Cas, woolgathering, when his family were downstairs, waiting on Cas so that Jody could finish her story of having escaped the Afterlife. He smiled once more. Soon, Frank would be pushing everyone out the door with both hands, and Cas wouldn't blame his brother-in-law one bit.

He popped out of the room.

**VIGNETTE - STRANGE MERCY**

**HERE**

"Which takes us to the last beast, and the last obstacle," Jody said matter-of-factly, once Cas had returned to the table. "The Minotaur."

"Really?!" Sam exclaimed. "From Greek mythology?"

"No, from Walla Walla, Washington," Jody retorted, and Frank grinned widely. "My wife, ladies and gentlemen," he said with pride, and the couple looked at each other warmly. It had been ages since Frank had been able to say that. He'd never thought he would ever be fortunate enough to say it again.

"Sorry, Sam," Jody said, a little sheepishly.

"Are you kidding? That was hilarious!" Gail said, laughing. She had been looking at Cas curiously. He had popped back to the patio without a word and absently refilled her wine glass, but he'd had one of those looks on his face she couldn't quite decipher. Cas's wife was thinking along the same lines as her husband had been, a few minutes ago. They'd all been here, drinking and talking, for quite a while now. But it was a good thing that Jody was nearing the end of her tale, because if Gail was Frank, she would be on the verge of telling everybody to get lost. They could read the rest of the story in her upcoming best-seller, 7 Easy Hacks To Escape The Afterlife. Then she would have shoved them all out the door, triple-locked it, and she and Cas wouldn't have surfaced for a week.

"I had to make my way through the proverbial labyrinth, but that was nothing I hadn't done before," Jody told them all. "I've always been good at that kind of stuff. The police academy had a tougher obstacle course, because you had to make sure not to shoot any innocent victims as you were navigating it." She took a sip from her beer, trying her best not to yawn. The story was almost at an end. Finally. "Anyway, I made my way through the maze, and I ended up standing in a big cave," she went on. "And, there he was. If any of you have ever seen an artist's rendering of a Minotaur, it looked exactly like you would expect. He had the head of a bull, but the body of a man. He was just standing there, looking at me. I was waiting for him to make a move. This was the seventh obstacle, so I was sure I was in for one hell of a fight."

"Did he have - " Dean made a motion, pointing his fingers out from his head.

Jody looked at him. "Yeah, Dean. He had horns. He literally had the head of a bull."

"According to Greek mythology, a Minotaur is the product of a bull, and a human woman," Sam explained. "Sort of like the Greek equivalent of a Nephilim. Right, Cas?"

Cas gave him a half-shrug. It was a bit of an odd analogy, in his opinion.

"But, I was surprised," Jody remarked softly. "He told me that, even though he'd been fed human flesh and taken to the centre of the labyrinth to guard against the escape of any souls from the Afterlife, that he meant me no harm. He told me that he never asked to come into being. He was bred that way, and installed in that cave for eternity. He'd never wanted to hurt anyone. He told me that the only one who had ever cared about him was his half-sister, Ariadne. But even though she had begged the gods for his release, they had refused. And then, he asked me to kill him."

Cas's forehead wrinkled. "He did? Why?" he asked his sister-in-law.

"Because he was miserable, Cas," Jody replied soberly. "Because he was leading an eternal existence in service to some faceless authority figure, separated from his family, for reasons that made absolutely no sense."

"The Minotaur was you," Barry said suddenly, and Jody smiled wryly. "Yeah, he was," she agreed. "In a manner of speaking, he was."

"So, what did you do?" Rob asked his mother, open-mouthed.

"I walked up to him and I looked him right in the eye," Jody said calmly, "And I asked him how in the hell I was supposed to do THAT. So, he bent down and told me to grab the horns that were sticking out of his forehead, and twist them. If I put enough muscle into it, they would come right off, like a screw-off bottlecap."

"Now, how would an ancient Greek mythological monster know about something like that?" Bobby asked her.

"Exactly," Jody nodded, agreeing with her friend. But she didn't elaborate. Bobby may be God, but Jody was exhausted. She was going to make damn sure she finished her story tonight, though, and she was going to finish it before the big hand and the small hand came together at the top of the clock. After the shot of adrenaline that had come with being back and back together with her family had worn off, Jody was growing very tired now. Soon, she would have to pee for what would feel like a couple of hours, and then she and Frank were way overdue for a reunion of their own.

"Then, the Minotaur's horns were in my hands, and I stood back, looking at him," Jody went on. "It was so weird; there I was, standing in front of a legendary monster, and he was asking me to kill him. Pleading with me, actually."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Yeah, that was different, all right. Sam had noticed Jody's usage of the word "him" to refer to the Minotaur, up to this point, instead of "it". The Jody he knew could kick a great deal of ass, but she also had a big heart. He could picture her standing there, looking up at the pathetic creature.

"He told me to kill him with one of his horns and put the other one in my bag, to take with me to the other side," Jody continued. "Then, he pointed to the corner of the cave."

**THERE**

Jody looked to where the Minotaur was pointing.

"Do you see that ball of thread?" the creature asked her. "It belonged to my half-sister, Ariadne. She gave it to me before the gods imprisoned me here. She told me to safeguard it until the time came to give it to the right individual. You must put the ball of thread and one of my horns in your bag, with the box you received as forfeit from the Pinu."

"You know about that?" Jody said, surprised.

The Minotaur snorted softly. Presumably, that was its way of showing amusement. "Of course I know about that. You wouldn't be here if you hadn't beaten him, and received the elixir," the creature said. "You would be a tree in the forest, instead."

"The elixir?" Jody echoed. Her hand moved to the drawstring bag at her waist. "Is that what's in the box?"

"Yes. It's the elixir from Bimini. There won't be much felt in the vial, though. As for Ariadne's thread and my horn, you're to give them to the half-brother and sister, who will be the last two children standing."

"What?" Jody said, completely confused now.

"The last two survivors," the Minotaur said, as if that explained everything.

"Who are you talking about?" she asked, with a touch of irritation in her voice. But, really, didn't she already know?

"Why, Rob and Gail, of course," the beast said calmly. "The thread should go to the girl, and the horn, to the boy. They should hold on to the objects until the cull comes down to the both of them, and then, they will know what has to be done."

Jody was staring at the Minotaur, open-mouthed. What about Eric? What about-?

"Take the items and kill me, quickly, before I change my mind," the creature said, its nostrils flaring. "I can smell your blood."

Jody backed away, keeping the Minotaur in her sight. She'd better not push her luck any longer. All she had to do was kill it, and then she could come back home. The thought that there was always a price to be paid was bouncing around in her head, but she had no time to worry about that right now. She had to do what she had to do, to get back to her family.

She rushed over to the corner and scooped up the ball of thread with one hand, while opening the drawstring on the bag with the other. She dropped one of the Minotaur's horns into it, along with the ball of thread, in one quick motion. Then she drew the bag closed and moved back to face the creature.

"Quickly," it said in a deep voice that sounded almost like a growl.

Jody's stomach was churning, but her entire existence was at stake, here. Besides, the Minotaur had pleaded with her to do it. Begged her, almost. It didn't want to live any more.

But the beast's indoctrination was taking over now, and it charged her. Fortunately, the attack was blunted by the fact that it no longer had any horns. Jody dodged the creature and gripped its horn tightly in her fist, plunging the sharp end into its flank. She drew the horn across the Minotaur's torso, opening up a gaping wound.

It fell to the cave floor, whining in pain. Jody's heart clenched. She wished it was still roaring and gnashing its teeth. It was much easier to kill a beast with no feelings. She hesitated, the sharp end of its horn wavering over its chest. Why was she hesitating? She was one good strike away from going home.

"Please," the Minotaur said in a low, rumbling voice. "Please, finish it. Tell Castiel I owe the both of you a huge debt of gratitude. That is why I have given you my treasures. Now please, release me from my miserable existence, before it is too late."

Jody drove the horn deep into its chest, in the area where its heart was, or should be. She braced herself, anticipating the spurt of blood that usually accompanied such an act. Instead, the Minotaur turned to stone, and then the stone crumbled into dust.

Jody got to her feet slowly, letting out a shaky breath. The horn she had killed the Minotaur with had also turned to dust in her hand. She took a second to check the drawstring bag: one horn, one Piasa fang, one ball of thread, and one box, which apparently contained a vial with a few drops of elixir from a place that wasn't even supposed to exist.

**HERE**

"And, that was that," Jody said, looking around the table at everyone. "I walked out of the cave and found myself here, in the front hallway." She smiled thinly. "I saw Suzanne, and I was afraid there was a new family living here." She drained her whiskey glass. Frank grabbed the bottle, but she waved him off. "No thanks, Pookie. I've had enough. Let's just finish the business at hand, and then I'll have to get some rest. We'll have to figure out how to tell Angela about this, tomorrow."

Frank's lips tightened. "You're right, Babe."

Jody reached for the drawstring bag, feeling absurdly like Santa Claus. She opened it, taking the ball of thread out. "Here you go, Gail." She rolled the ball across the table and Cas caught it. He and Gail peered at the item for a moment, and then Cas put it in his jacket pocket.

Out came the Minotaur's horn, and Jody handed it to Rob. "Put that someplace safe," she instructed him. "I have no idea what you're both supposed to do with those things - "her eyes moved back and forth from her son to her sister-in-law and back " - but they're obviously meant for you to use in the future, somehow." Jody frowned. "Now I know what the Minotaur meant, about the two of you being the last two survivors. Poor Eric."

They were all silent for a moment. Gail thought about what Jody was saying. She and Rob were going to be the last two of Vincent's children left alive? What about Damien, and little Jerry? What about the others? Was Alice going to kill them all? She glanced nervously at her husband. Was Cas?

Jody took the Piasa's fang out next, reaching further down the table. "Here, Sam," she said. He got up from his chair, stretching his long arm to take the item. "Careful with that," she cautioned the younger Winchester. "It might be poisonous."

Sam gave her a brief nod. He examined the fang curiously for a moment, then tucked it into his shirt pocket.

Jody yawned widely. "I'm sorry everyone, but I'm going to have to get some rest, now. I've only got one good hug left in me for each of you."

They all came forward, one by one, hugging Jody and telling her how great it was to have her back.

"Can you give me a lift home?" Barry asked Cas, but Jody put her hand on Bobby's arm. "Would you mind?" she asked God. "I want to talk to Cas, for a minute."

"Sure, dear. Anything you say," Bobby replied. He gave her a tender kiss on her forehead. "Welcome back, Jody. I'm so damn glad to see you again." His voice was thick, and Jody pulled her old friend to her for a hug.

When they broke the embrace, Bobby gave Nicole a quick look, but she shook her head. "I'm staying at the bunker tonight, but thanks," she said to him. Nicole moved forward to give Jody a quick hug and then she moved back, so the Winchesters could move in.

Jody looked at Dean, touching his face. "I kicked it in the ass," she told him, and he gave her a one-armed hug. "Damn right you did," Dean agreed in a voice that was gruff with emotion. Then, in a touching moment, he gave Jody a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Stop hitting on my wife, Winchester," Frank said, but the tears dribbling down his own cheeks gave him away.

The process was repeated with Sam, and then Bobby disappeared with Barry. The brothers and Nicole walked out of the back yard around to the front of the house, where the Impala was parked.

Jody took Rob's hand with one of hers, reaching out to Suzanne with the other. "We'll talk some more in the morning," she promised the young couple. "I want to hear all about how you two met, and I want to get to know you, Suzanne. You'll both probably have to help your Dad and me with Angela. She'll be freaked out by this, to say the least."

"We'll get up early, and take Jackie home," Suzanne volunteered, and Jody gave her a grateful smile. That was right; she'd forgotten that Angela had a little friend staying over.

"Mom..." Rob started to say, and his throat closed up.

"I know, Robbie. I know," Jody said softly, but now she was the one who was having trouble speaking.

Frank continued to weep silently as he watched his wife and son embrace, and the moment was made all the more poignant by his realization that Jody had called Rob by his childhood name.

"Come on, Rob. Your mom needs to rest," Suzanne said, taking her fiance's hand. Rob stayed in his mother's arms for another minute, and then he let Suzanne lead him away.

It was just the four of them left on the patio now, and Frank and Gail stood side by side, leaking like faucets as Jody held out her arms toward Cas.

Cas felt a rush of emotions, all at once. He was so glad that Jody was back, and that his suppositions had been correct. He was thankful that the Minotaur had given them those gifts, even as he wondered what purpose they were supposed to serve. All he knew was that the ball of thread he had in his pocket had to be of vital importance. Assuming that Gail was all right with it, Cas was going to suggest locking it up in the safe in his office in Heaven, where the mystery blade he had won in the Mississippi riverboat poker tournament was currently being kept. He made a mental note to ask Rob to keep the Minotaur's horn safely secured, as well.

As jubilant as Cas was at Jody's return, though, he was also feeling a great deal of apprehension for the future. Why had the Pinu asked Jody that final question? What was going to be expected of her? And, the question that concerned Cas the most: If Gail and Rob were to be the final two of Vincent's progeny to survive, what were they supposed to do, then?

Jody embraced Cas, and he smiled shyly as she murmured, "I don't have the words to thank you, Cas. You gave me my life back. Now, I can see Rob get married, and I can help Angela grow into a strong, independent woman."

"Just like her mother," Cas said, giving her a squeeze. The weight of what Jody had just said was settling on his shoulders. Jody was going to see her children through so many important milestones in the future, and now Frank wouldn't have to suffer the rest of his life without his One True Mate, any more.

Cas pulled out of the embrace, and now he was crying, too. He looked at Frank, and Gail's brother said, "Awww, geez. I can take anybody crying but you, Cas."

"I'm just so happy, Frank," Gail's husband said as his tears continued to flow.

Frank burbled out a laugh. "The day my little sister met you and those Winchester guys was the luckiest damn day of all of our lives. No matter how many more years your Father gives us all together, I'll never be able to begin to thank you for what you've done for us, Cas. Never. I love you, brother."

Gail sniffled loudly, and Frank said, "Bring it in, kiddo. You too, Cas." He extended his arms, looking at Jody. "Come on. Group hug. And then, I'm gonna kick you guys out of my house, and take my wife to bed. And yeah, I meant that exactly how it sounds."

"Ewww," Gail said, laughing through her tears. Frank laughed, too. For someone with as soft a heart as Frank had, this had been getting to be a little too much for him to take. If there was ever an occasion that had called out for a few tears, it was this one. But Frank had always been on more comfortable ground when he was making people laugh.

The four of them grouped together for a brief but emotion-filled hug, and then they separated, knuckling back a few more tears.

"Gail and I will be leaving, now," Cas told Frank and Jody softly. "Please call, if you need us for anything. Anything at all. Until that time, we will leave you to take care of your family matters."

Frank smiled. Cas was talking Angel talk now, trying to compose himself after what had been for him a very emotional outburst. "Oh, we'll be calling you both, and soon," he told his sister and brother-in-law.

"Yes, we will," Jody agreed, taking her husband's hand. "Just give us a little while to sort things out with the kids."

"And the neighbours, too," Frank added. "I have no clue how we're going to explain this to everybody else."

They were all silent for a minute, as the realization hit them: Jody's return was the best thing that had happened to them in just about forever, but it came attached with consequences that ranged far beyond their own family. How were they supposed to explain this to their neighbours and friends? To the people at City Hall? To Jody's former co-workers, and the people at the cancer charity, who had attended her funeral?

"Let's brainstorm about that later," Jody finally said. "I'm so tired now that I can't even think straight. I don't mind staying under wraps here in the house for a while, until we can figure it out."

Gail glanced at her brother for a moment. She wondered if he was going to tell Jody about Jackie's mother, Joanne. Not that there had been anything going on between them, but it seemed like Joanne popped in here – so to speak – pretty regularly, with an easy familiarity. Frank had better be discreet with the woman, whether she had designs on him or not, until they could figure out what to do about all of that.

"Goodnight, you guys," Gail said to Frank and Jody, blowing them a kiss. "We love you." She reached out her hand to Cas, and then the Angels were gone.

Frank and Jody were resting in each other's arms, about an hour later. Despite her exhaustion, Jody was finding it hard to sleep. So many things were going through her mind. What kind of a young woman was Suzanne, exactly? Had she and Rob set a date? Was it a good thing for Rob to be getting married at such a young age?

Her husband had assuaged her concerns as much as he could. He had been leery of Suzanne at first, too, he told her. After all, she and Rob had met at a psychiatrist's office. Frank had been worried that the young woman might be a raving lunatic, or something.

"Why?" Jody had inquired. "Because she was at a psychiatrist's office? But wasn't Rob there, too?"

"I know, but he was getting grief counseling, over you and Eric," Frank responded honestly.

Jody's expression was somber for a minute. Now she almost felt guilty for dying, and putting her son through that. Rob had had an awful lot to deal with in his young life, hadn't he?

"But, as it turned out, that's why Suzanne was there, too," Frank continued. He let out a slow breath. "I might as well tell you Suzanne's story, just so we can get it out of the way, now."

He went on to tell his wife a condensed but very honest story of Ilya Yelchin and the so-called Witness Protection Program. Jody was astonished. No wonder Suzanne had been getting grief counseling.

"Are we sure the threat to her is completely gone?" she asked Frank, and her husband smiled grimly.

"Oh, yeah," Frank said. "Me and Cas took care of it. Mainly him, actually. You should have seen him, Babe. I've gotta say, I was both impressed and a little scared, at the same time. All I can say is, I'm glad Cas is on our side."

That had led Jody to think about the subject of Vincent, and the apparent "apocalyptic event" he was planning. She wondered how that tied in to the gifts she'd received from the Minotaur, and to the question that the Pinu had asked her. She was seriously starting to think that this might be a frying-pan-into-the-fire situation. Then again, if that was the case, she welcomed the fire. Jody would much rather be here with her family, fighting alongside them, if that was what needed to be done.

But the uppermost thing in her mind at the moment was her daughter. How was Angela going to react when she saw that her mother was back from the dead? Ideally, her little girl would be as overjoyed to see Jody as Jody was going to be to see Angela. Frank had told his wife that their daughter was growing like a weed, both in size and maturity. He said he would talk to the little girl first, to prepare her for the shock. But that was a matter for the morning, he added, putting his arms around Jody and kissing her tenderly. They could work all of that out in the morning.

Cas and Gail were in their home on Earth. They too were lying in bed in each other's arms, talking about the miracle that had occurred. There were so many aspects to Jody's return that were both amazing, and intriguing.

The Angels had winked themselves directly to Heaven from Frank's house. They went to Cas's office, and Gail waited as he deposited the ball of thread in the safe, next to the unidentified blade. Then they left quickly and quietly, to go to their Earth house. What had happened tonight was so huge that they felt the need to rush home and talk about it.

Once they'd gotten back to the house, the first thing Gail did was rush to Cas, and put her arms around him. He smiled, returning her embrace. "To what do I owe this wonderful show of affection?" he asked her.

"If you think THIS is wonderful, just wait till you see what happens in a few minutes," she quipped, and Cas laughed. Gail touched his face. "I just wanted to tell you how amazing you are. I can't believe you did that. All this time..." Her voice faltered.

"I thought you might be angry with me for not having told you about it," Cas said, "but I had no idea if what I had in mind would even work. As more and more time elapsed and Jody still had not returned, I thought that I had been wrong. Then, I was glad that I hadn't told you. It would have broken my heart to see you disappointed like that, after having gotten your hopes up. And saying anything to Frank would have been entirely out of the question."

Gail nodded. She could understand that. Cas was right; the false hope that would have resulted if he'd told them and then if Jody had never come back would have been far, far worse. Cas had just been protecting them. She touched Cas's face again. "I love you, sweetie."

He leaned down to kiss her. "Now, we'll have to help them figure out how to explain her return to everyone. It's not as if we can run around and modify everyone they know," he remarked lightly.

"Wait a minute," Gail replied slowly. "Maybe we can. We'd just have to work out the logistics. But, there might be a way. We'll just have to talk about it some more."

Then Cas kissed her again, and conversation moved to the back burner, for a while.


	5. L'Automne - Season Of The Blood Moon

**BOOK 4 – L'AUTOMNE – SEASON OF THE BLOOD MOON**

**Chapter 1 - You Are My Miracle**

Frank looked at Rob, rolling his eyes. "Is that the look you're going with?"

His son turned away from the mirror, raising his eyebrows. "What? Suzanne likes my hair a little longer."

"I'm not talking about your hair, I'm talking about that bow tie," Frank said, beckoning. "C'mere. Let me see if I can help you with that."

Frank fumbled with it for a few minutes, and Rob waited patiently. Then, Frank remembered: he didn't know how to tie a bow tie, either. Who the hell wore bow ties, these days?

"Cas!" Frank called out, and his brother-in-law was at his side instantly.

"What do you need, Frank?" Cas asked him eagerly.

Frank shook his head slowly, trying not to smirk. Cas had been popping around here like some kind of Angelic wedding planner all day long.

"Can you show the kid how to tie a bow tie?" Frank asked him, gesturing to the ribbon of cloth hanging haphazardly around Rob's shirt collar.

"Of course," Cas said briskly, his hands moving deftly at Rob's neck.

"How do you DO that, Uncle Cas?" Rob said, mystified. "I looked it up online, and it looked so easy."

"Online," Cas said scornfully. He finished tying Rob's tie, and then he turned to Frank. "Here," Cas said, gesturing. Frank grinned, letting his brother-in-law tie his tie, as well. If he didn't, Cas would just chase him around the house until he did.

"Do you need anything else?" Cas asked the father and son. "I still need to make the bouquets, and help Barry ice the cake."

Frank's lips were twitching like crazy now. There was nothing like a wedding to turn the most fearsome warrior Heaven had into Martha Freaking Stewart. He would have to remember to tell Sam and Dean that one.

"Go ahead, Cas," Gail's brother encouraged him. "I have to have a talk with Rob about the Birds and the Bees, anyway."

Cas's forehead wrinkled as he looked at both men, but then he popped out of the room without another word.

Rob let out the laugh he'd been holding in. "Dad, you're so mean!" he said with a grin.

Frank waved him off. "Ahhh, he'll be OK. He has all this wedding stuff to keep him occupied." He looked Rob in the eyes. "Seriously, how are you holding up? You OK? Nervous?"

"Nope," Rob said confidently, and then he sighed. "Yep. Were you nervous when you married Mom?"

"Nope," Frank replied quickly, and then, he made a face. "Yep. I couldn't believe she was actually gonna show up. I must have driven your Aunt Gail nuts. I kept asking her to check and make sure your Mom didn't have tennis shoes on under her wedding dress, so she could make a break for it."

There was a knock on the door. "Are you guys ready?" Jody called out. She opened the door and walked in, holding Angela by the hand.

"Wow. You look beautiful, Babe," Frank said softly.

Jody smiled widely. She was glad he'd noticed that she had taken a little more care with her appearance today, because of all the picture-taking that had been going on. She felt young, and vital. She had her mental faculties, both breasts, a full head of dark brown hair, and she was perfectly healthy. Even though her adult son was getting married, Jody felt like she was barely out of her teens.

Angela gave Jody's hand a squeeze and then let it go, running to her brother. "Suzanne told me to tell you that she wants to make a big entrance," Angela told Rob, "so you and Dad will have to wait a few minutes, before she shows up."

Rob scooped his sister up in his arms. "Did she have tennis shoes on under her dress?" he joked, winking at his father.

Angela giggled at the funny image. "No! She had – what are they called, Mom?" Angela said, looking at Jody.

Her mother and father were standing with their arms around each other, looking proudly at their children. "They're called slingbacks," Jody told Angela.

Father and son laughed. Mother and daughter would have no way of knowing what the joke had been, of course.

"We have to go get our flowers from Cas, now," Jody said, kissing Frank on the cheek. She moved to where Rob was standing. He put his sister down and faced his mother.

"I'm so glad we're all here together," Jody said to Rob, touching his face. "Look at you. You're so..." She choked up. "I'm going to have to get Nicole to do my makeup again, in a minute," Jody continued, burbling out a laugh. "I'm so proud of you, Rob. You and Suzanne are going to be so happy."

"I know, Mom," Rob said, nodding. He kissed Jody on her forehead. "You and Angela better get going, now. You have to help Suzanne get ready."

"She's pretty much there," Jody told her son.

"Yeah. Uncle Cas just has to make us our flowers," Angela said. She took Jody's hand. "Come on, Mom! Let's get this show on the road!"

Jody lifted an eyebrow. "You've been talking to your Uncle Dean, haven't you?"

Frank's lips twitched. "Still, it's not a bad idea," he remarked. "The sooner we get done with the ceremony, the sooner we can start drinking."

Jody rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. OK, let's go, sweetie." She gave Angela's hand a squeeze, and Angela squeezed back immediately. Ever since Jody had gotten back, Frank's wife had made it a point to be more demonstrative with her family.

Gail strode into the room. "Hey, let's go, you guys. Geez. I thought it took women a while to get ready! Cas is starting to flip out. I just reminded him he forgot your boutonnieres, and he nearly passed out." She looked at her brother. "Oh, and he's still trying to figure out why you needed to give the sex talk to a guy who's been living with his girlfriend all this time."

Frank cleared his throat, gesturing to Angela. "It's OK, Dad. I know what sex is," the little girl said confidently. Her father opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Let's go, Angela," Jody said, trying not to laugh. "There'll be plenty of time to drive your father crazy, later."

Gail grinned. She gave Rob a thumbs-up. "Looking very handsome there, fella," she complimented the groom-to-be. "And considering who I'm married to, that's really saying something."

Cas popped into the room. "Oh, good. You're all here. I have to make the bouquets and the boutonnieres." He started to wave his hands, and flowers began to appear.

There was a knock at the open door. "Anybody superstitious?" the voice said.

They all exchanged glances. Suzanne?

"I have to talk to Rob, right now," the bride-to-be said, and then she walked into the room anyway.

Everybody looked at her, and then at Rob. What the hell?

After a moment's silence, Jody said, "You heard the woman. Let's leave them alone."

They all trooped out of the room as Rob looked at his bride-to-be apprehensively.

"Jackie's mom said they're not supposed to see each other before the wedding," Angela fretted, as the family members walked down the corridor toward the living room at Cas and Gail's house. "Does this mean they can't get married, now?"

The adults exchanged smiles, but they were puzzled ones. What did Suzanne want to talk to Rob about, so close to the ceremony?

Cas was frowning. He gestured to Frank. "Can I have a word?"

Gail's brother was trying not to smirk again. "Sure, Cas." His brother-in-law probably had an ice sculpture he was worried would melt, or something. Frank gave Jody a gentle nudge. "Why don't you and Angela go ahead and take your places? Me and Gail will talk down Jennifer Lopez, here."

Jody laughed. She gave Frank a kiss on the cheek, then led Angela through the living room toward the back door of the house. The guests were all gathered in the back yard. Most of those invited were family, but there were a number of other humans, as well. Jackie and Joanne were sitting in the second row, and there were a few other neighbours sprinkled in, here and there. Gabriel had been stationed at the back door to make sure none of them walked into the house unexpectedly, because a handful of Angels had been popping in and out for a while now, helping Cas to prepare for the celebration.

It was the beginning of October, and it was a beautiful, sunny day. A very eventful month had led up to this most happy day, but today would be a brief respite, only. The November deadline was looming over all of their heads, coming up much too quickly. They still had no idea where Vincent or any of his group were, or what he was planning. So after the festivities today, Cas and Gail might not see their Earth family for a while. They had to pull out all the stops now, before it was too late.

But at least today, they had this: "Jennifer Lopez?" Gail said to her brother, confused.

"Yeah. Wasn't she in that Wedding Planner movie?" Frank replied. "Or, was that the Wedding Singer?"

"No, that was Adam Sandler," Gail said, shaking her head. "Or was it Wedding Crashers?"

"The only thing I'm getting from this conversation is that there are way too many movies about weddings," Frank retorted.

"Do you think they're going to have a long conversation?" Cas interjected, ignoring the siblings' repartee. "I'm supposed to give Gabriel the signal for when to release the doves."

Frank opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking suspiciously at his brother-in-law. Was Cas kidding, or not? A lot of times, it was hard to tell. But just in case he wasn't, better here than at Frank's place. He had better things to do than to be cleaning up dove crap for an hour after the ceremony.

Gail's brother frowned. "Truthfully, I'm more worried about the subject of their conversation than the length," he told the couple. "I'm hoping Suzanne isn't getting cold feet. She's been acting really jumpy, the last few days." He saw the look on Cas's face. "And no, there haven't been any more Russian gangsters, Cas," Frank assured his brother-in-law. "I don't think it's that kind of jumpy. I just think she's a little nervous about making the big commitment. I mean, they're both so young..."

"It'll be fine," Gail reassured her brother. "I don't think it has anything to do with age. I was nervous before I married Cas. I think it can be just as nerve-wracking when you know it's the right thing to do."

Frank smirked. "You could have a point about age not being a factor. After all, you were practically an old maid before this guy finally took you off my hands."

Gail stared at him balefully. She nudged Cas. "Are you going to let him talk to me like that?" she asked her husband, but Cas was ticking off items on his fingers: "Flowers, cake, punch, doves..." Gail rolled her eyes. Oh, brother.

Jody and Angela were taking their seats at the front of the makeshift spectators' section. Bobby was standing at the head of the aisle between the rows of chairs, waiting to perform the ceremony. He raised an eyebrow to Jody, and she gave him a half-shrug in return.

Angela turned around in her chair to look at Jackie, and the two best friends exchanged a smile. Joanne smiled, too. The girls were so cute together.

Neither Joanne nor her daughter nor any of the other neighbours on Frank's street had any recollection of Jody's death. It had taken some creative planning on their part, but the germ of an idea that Gail had had the night Jody had returned from the Afterlife had blossomed into a reality, following another party, back in September.

But first had been the reunion between mother and daughter, the morning after Jody's return.

Frank and Jody had woken up in each other's arms that morning. They'd never done that, before. Being a practical couple who had raised kids, they'd both preferred good sleep over perceived romance, even in the past. When you reached a certain age, cuddling all night was out of the question. Snoring, night sweats, sore muscles... Who needed it? Being well rested was the real prize at the bottom of the cereal box.

But the two of them had just been reunited after years of being apart, and Frank hadn't been able to stop himself from touching his wife. Not just in a sexual way, although they'd done that too, of course. He'd just had to keep on feeling her, to make sure she was real. Even when they'd both been sleeping, Frank had reached out for Jody, and she had gravitated toward his touch, because Frank's arms were the most solid proof to Jody that she hadn't just dreamed this whole thing. The bed was just a piece of furniture. It was Frank's arms that were her home.

The two of them had been lingering in their bed, enjoying each other's company, when there was a light knock on the door.

"Mom? Dad?" Rob said in a tentative tone.

"Boy, does THAT take me back," Jody said with a wry smile.

"Are you kidding?" Frank said, giving her an eye roll. "In the old days, he would have just come barreling in here, and jumped in-between us."

Jody grinned. That was true enough. "Come in," she called out.

Rob entered the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He stood there looking at his parents for a moment, drinking in the sight. "I never thought I would - " he started to say, but his throat was closing up again. Rob had spent half the night crying, and Suzanne had spent that whole time holding him while he did it. No wonder he loved her so much.

"Aww, geez," Frank said in a light tone. "That does it. I'm instituting a new house rule: no crying. There's no crying in baseball, and there's no crying in this house."

"That's a good idea, in principle," Jody said, her lips twitching. "But we'll see how long we all last, when it comes time to talk to a certain little lady."

Rob moved closer to the bed. "Speaking of which, Suzanne took Jackie home. She's planning to tell Joanne that we have an early family commitment."

"When did you go into politics?" Frank said, grinning. He gave Jody a squeeze, then slipped out of bed, putting on his robe and slippers. "That sounds like a City Hall press release." He looked at Jody. "I'm gonna go talk to her, Babe. I want to soften her up for your grand entrance."

Jody stopped smiling. Now, she was worried. "Do you think she'll freak out?" she asked her husband.

"Yeah...with happiness!" Rob said cheerfully. "I did."

"What HE said," Frank chimed in, jerking his thumb at their son. "Don't worry, Jodes. She's gonna be fine. She's tough. She's resilient. She's... you." He walked around to her side of the bed and bent down to kiss her. "I'll come back to get you, in a minute."

Frank and Rob exited the room, walking down the hall together.

"What are you going to say to Angela?" Rob asked his father curiously.

Frank put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Rob, my boy, my son, the heir to my vast fortune," he said facetiously. He looked Rob in the eye. "I have no freaking idea."

Rob laughed. He couldn't help it. Normally, he would have rolled his eyes and made a smartass remark, but he was just so ecstatic to have his family back that he was practically floating on air.

"You'll be great, Dad," the young man said sincerely. "You were with me, back in the day. Remember?"

Frank stopped short. He knew exactly what Rob was talking about. There had been a day, many years ago, that Frank had had to sit little Robbie down in this very same house and tell him that the first mother he'd ever known, Felicia, was dead. That had been the hardest, most heartbreaking thing Frank had ever had to do.

"You got me through that, Dad," Rob told Gail's brother quietly. "You and Mom, both. You're the best parents a kid could ever ask for. Just tell Angela the truth, like you did with me. She'll be so happy. You've got this, Dad."

"And, once again, the student surpasses the teacher," Frank said in a thick voice.

"What about the house rule?" Rob teased Frank lightly upon seeing the tears welling up in Frank's eyes.

Frank smiled through those. "Tell you what, kiddo: Like my diet, that starts tomorrow."

They descended the stairs. "I'll put the coffee on," Rob said affably as they passed through the kitchen. "And then, Suzanne and I will make a big brunch for us all. I'll make Eggs Benedict. That's Mom's favourite."

Frank clapped a hand on his son's shoulder again. "Good deal. That'll be great." He paused before going down the hallways to Angela's room. "Wish me luck."

Gail's brother didn't wait for Rob's response. His son had already given him more than enough reassurance. Frank took a moment to appreciate how great his and Jody's oldest kid had turned out. Angela was going to be the same way, he was sure. If she recovered from the shock he was going to lay on her right now, that was.

Frank tapped lightly on the door of Angela's room.

"Dad, you're being weird," Angela said about ten minutes later. "You said you had something to tell me. Well, you're talking a lot, but you're not telling me anything."

"Well, I am a politician," Frank quipped. He sighed. "You're right. I've just been avoiding the subject, because I'm a big chicken."

"Buck, buck," Angela said, flapping her arms. Frank laughed out loud. No matter how many times he'd told her that she was supposed to put her hands in her underarms and flap her elbows so that they would look like chicken wings, Angela always flapped her arms out from her sides, instead. He'd asked her why once, and Angela had looked at him, as if it should be obvious. "It's an acting choice," she'd told him in a sincere tone. Cracked Frank up, every time.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. Then Frank reached out and picked his daughter up, setting her on his lap. He didn't do that too often, any more. Kids had this way of letting you know when they felt like they were too old for certain things. Besides, she was bigger now, and his back hurt, half the time. Not this morning, though. Not today.

Still, he hesitated. How the hell did a person tell a girl who was Angela's age that the mother she'd been mourning for a couple of years had suddenly come back from the dead?

"What's the matter, Daddy?" Angela asked Frank, looking him in the face with what he'd privately nicknamed her Doe Eyes in training. Just like her Aunt Gail. "Did somebody else die?"

Geez. That one hurt. Still, coming from her point of view, it had been a perfectly valid question. Death had unfortunately been as much a part of Angela's young life as playtime and stuffed animals. Of course, Frank was here for the exact opposite reason, in this case. But he took a beat to acknowledge exactly how lucky he and his family were that this was so. There were many other people in their extended family, both human and Angel, who would never see their own departed loves ones again.

"I have some really good news for you, Peanut," Frank said to his daughter, using one of his random nicknames for her. Angela had protested his use of that particular one, though, because she'd said it was "exclusionary". He'd been puzzled. What? Angela had patiently explained what they'd been taught in school, using Poochie and Ralph as an example. Poochie was an elephant, so he would love to be called "Peanut". But, because Ralph was a penguin, he would feel excluded by that. Frank had gaped at his daughter. Were they kidding with that stuff? He'd had a chat with Angela's teacher after that, and the woman had laughed and said that Angela had put her own extreme kind of spin on it. Yes, they taught inclusion, of course, but Frank was entitled to call his own daughter by any term of endearment he wished. But maybe, just to be on the safe side, he should try to come up with a cute pet name for a kind of fish, just to balance the scales. No pun intended. They'd had a laugh about that, and then Frank had left the school, somewhat reassured. He was all for inclusion, but sometimes, political correctness went too far, in his opinion.

Angela didn't react to her father's use of the nickname this time, though. She was regarding him warily, waiting to see what he was going to say next.

There were no magic words, and there was no way to soft-pedal it. Still, Frank tried: "Do you believe in miracles?"

Angela nodded. "Yeah, Dad. Of course I do. Uncle Cas and Aunt Gail told me that miracles happen all the time. So did Uncle Gabriel. He said he's done a bunch of miracles, himself. Then Uncle Dean asked him if he could change water into beer, because they were running low."

Frank was bemused. "And where was I, during this heavy-duty theological discussion?"

Angela thought about that for a moment. "I think you were getting more beer," she said brightly.

Oh, Frank thought. Made perfect sense. "Aren't you going to ask me what 'theological' means?" he asked his daughter.

"I already know," she replied pertly. "Uncle Sam told me."

Frank shook his head slowly. He should have figured as much. "Anyway, back to what we were talking about: miracles. We got one last night, Angela, and it was the biggest one we could have ever wished for." He swallowed, hard. "Your mother has come back to us."

Angela was silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she said, "Is she an Angel?"

"No, sweetie. She's a human being, again," Frank said around the lump in his throat. "We're a family, again." He waited another moment. "She's upstairs in our room, right now. I came in here to talk to you first, because we didn't want to freak you out."

Angela jumped off her father's lap, holding her hand out to him. His daughter had a look that Frank had seen on his sister's face many, many times. He recognized it as Gail's "Are you nuts?" look. It was amazing; Frank frequently had to remind himself that Gail and Angela weren't technically related, at least, not by blood. So often, he saw his little sister in his daughter's behaviour, and facial expressions. Then, at other times, he saw Jody's. But the difference was that now, it wouldn't cause him pain to see the latter.

"Let's GO, Dad! I want to see Mom! I have about a million hugs saved up in the Hug Bank!" Angela exclaimed.

Frank laughed. That was something his daughter and her "bestie" Jackie had dreamed up. When the girls had to be separated from each other for any significant period of time, they would usually hug each other several times, telling the adults that they were making deposits in the Hug Bank. Then, if one of the girls felt like she needed a hug, she would just put her arms around herself, making a "withdrawal". Everybody agreed it was the most adorable thing they'd ever seen.

Frank took his daughter's hand.

Mother and daughter had had an affectionate, emotionally-charged reunion, and ever since that day, Angela and Jody had been practically inseparable. It had been tricky to manage, but the family had closed ranks and somehow, they had managed to keep Jody's return from everyone who was outside their immediate circle. But they'd known that something would have to be done about the situation, and soon.

That had been a month ago, and now Jody and Angela sat in the front row, waiting for the signal that the ceremony was about to begin. But now that Suzanne and Rob were having their unscheduled, pre-wedding chat, it was unclear exactly when the actual service was going to start. Jody smiled. It was a good thing that Frank and Gail were with Cas right now, to talk him off the proverbial ledge. So much had happened in the period of time she'd been gone, and so much had changed, that it was comforting to see that some things never did change. Cas was always a nervous wreck at family weddings, even more so than the bride.

Angela and Jackie were trying to sit still and behave, but it was becoming more and more difficult for the girls to sit apart from each other. When Angela squirmed in her chair, looking back at her little friend for the umpteenth time, Jody turned around, too.

"Why don't the two of you come up here and sit with us, until the ceremony starts?" Jody invited Joanne and her daughter. "That way, the girls can sit together."

"Sure; why not?" Joanne said, shrugging.

As the neighbour lady and her little girl got up and moved to the front row of seats, Bobby made an impatient gesture to Gabriel. Gabe shook his head. What the hell was the holdup? Bobby was wondering.

Things had been tricky for a while, after Jody's return. No one in their family was quite sure how they were supposed to go about their daily lives without people finding out that she was back. She could only stay cooped up in the house for so long. Luckily, summer was over now, so Jackie had to go back to school. Frank had signed Angela out until further notice, pleading an unexpected family commitment. Angela's teacher had been inquisitive, but Frank had channeled his brother-in-law's Angel evasion and his own knowledge of CorporateSpeak to put the kibosh on that. He'd been prepared to make something up if he'd had to, but fortunately, the woman had stood down.

Jody had told her husband that she didn't mind staying under wraps for a while. It didn't hurt that at first, she had needed the rest, and to re-orient herself to the day-to-day living of her own life. The process could start at home with her family, and then radiate outwards, like ripples in a pond.

Sounded reasonable enough to Frank, but he knew it wasn't going to hold for long. He went back to work because he wasn't the kind of man to shirk his commitments, or to break his promises. But every minute of every day that he was at City Hall, Frank's mind and heart were at home, with Jody and the kids. Everybody was there but him, and while Frank was glad that Jody was getting the opportunity to settle back in at her own pace, re-connect with Angela and Rob, and get to know Suzanne, he wanted to be there, too. So far, Angela had been very good about not disclosing to Jackie what was really going on, and Joanne had stayed away, giving the family their space, for the time being. But the situation wouldn't last, and they all knew it.

Things had come to a head less than a week after Frank had gone back to work. He had been sitting in one of those boring, pointless, soul-sucking meetings that the corporate geniuses seemed to favour. Those meetings where everybody talked about "committees", and "initiatives", but the only issues that ever got decided was how good the pastries were, and how great Harriet's tan looked, from her trip to Jamaica.

"We're going to have to trim the fat for next year's budget," the Chairman was saying, and Frank looked up from his doodle pad. "What?" he blurted out. "What do you mean?"

Laurence looked at Frank tolerantly. Everybody knew what Frank was like. His heart was in the right place, but he'd never really been able to figure out how the game was played. Still, he was well-liked, and Frank had raised the opinions of a lot of the constituents in regard to their city government, due to all the social programs he had pushed through the system. Which was great for public perception, but...

"I mean," Laurence explained, "that we worked out the budget for the first quarter of next year, and we're going to have to cut about twenty percent in every department, across the board."

"Why?" Frank asked the Chairman, bewildered. "You told me last month that we had a surplus!"

"Yes, and I also told you that you had to turn in your NB-22 request for items to purchase, by the end of last month," Laurence pointed out.

"But I don't need anything," Frank protested.

Laurence let out a breath as several others around the conference room table shook their heads, trying not to roll their eyes.

"That's not the point, Frank," Kelly said patiently. The head of the Human Resources department exchanged glances with a couple of the other department heads. "You have to use up your allotted surplus, or they'll cut your budget for the next fiscal year. You know that."

"What was I gonna use it ON?" Frank persisted stubbornly. "I don't need anything! Most of my staff bring in their own coffee, and they buy office supplies at the dollar store. So do I. I told them, the more we save from the kitty, the more we can put towards the social programs we're peddling. Next year, we're building two more ball diamonds for the kids, and I've committed us to that meals program for the homeless."

"That was when we thought you understood the system," Laurence said, sighing. "I told you that you had to either spend or exceed your budget for this year, or it would be cut, next year. Look, Frank, I don't make the decisions around here. Nor do any of us. That's Accounting."

"No, it's not," Neil said irritably. He looked at Frank apologetically. "At least, not from my viewpoint, anyway. I know I'm one of the department heads now, but those decisions are made by someone way higher up on the food chain than me."

"I don't care who's making the decisions," Frank insisted. "It could be the Mayor, the Governor, or Judge Freaking Judy, for all I care! The point is, it's stupid, and it's wasteful. You're telling me that I have to blow money just for the sake of blowing money now, so the government will give me money next year? Do you realize how insane that sounds?"

The room was silent. Some of them probably did realize that. Neil was looking down at the table, avoiding Frank's eyes. It wasn't too long ago that Neil had been ignored and marginalized himself, when he'd been one of those poor people on the street. Frank had been the only one to reach out to him then, helping the accountant to get a leg up and change the direction of his entire life. Neil felt like he was letting Frank down now, but it was also true that these kinds of things weren't up to him.

"Bottom line it for me, Larry," Frank said to the Chairman, sounding more like a Hunter than a politician. "Are you telling me that, because I didn't belly up to that endless taxpayer's trough you guys seem to think exists, and buy new computers, or furniture I don't need, that you're gonna cancel my social assistance 'initiatives' for next year?"

"We're all tightening our belts, Frank," Kelly chipped in.

"Oh, so that means we'll have to do without Hawaiian Luau Fridays, and raises for people who already make way too much money, as it is?" Frank said sarcastically. "How tragic. Meanwhile, kids have no place to get fresh air and exercise, and homeless people are starving to death."

There was another, more uncomfortable silence. Laurence cleared his throat. "Frank..." he began.

Aww, geez. Gail's brother could practically hear the sound of the record scratch, and the crickets chirping. Crap. He'd gone too far. But the blood was rushing in his ears, now. How could these corporate, fat-cat sons of-

"Sorry, everybody," Frank said, summoning up the last trace of corporate insincerity he possessed. "I've got some personal stuff going on right now, and I might have taken some of my issues out on all of you."

Most of his co-workers' facial expressions relaxed. Now, Frank was talking a language they understood. They all knew that he was a widower, trying to raise two kids on his own without any discernible domestic skills.

Kelly's mouth tightened, even more than it had done when Frank had mentioned Hawaiian Luau Fridays, which had been her pet project. She was all about compassion, she thought to herself, because she really believed that she was. But in her opinion, Frank had been milking that widower thing for quite a while now; but he had to realize that other people had problems, too. Her beloved Shih Tzu/toy poodle mix, Zsa Zsa, had passed the week before, but Kelly had come in to work every day, with her head held high and a smile on her face. It was indicative of the kind of person Kelly was that she honestly didn't believe there was a difference between Frank's loss, and her own.

Fortunately, the head of Human Resources didn't voice that viewpoint out loud, or Frank might have flipped his lid. As it was, he was stewing in his own juices now. Suddenly, he was sick and tired of this whole damn thing. People who were more concerned about feathering their own nests than about helping the constituents they'd pledged to serve. Corporate stooges, who were more hung up on filling out forms than filling the stomachs of the needy. And co-workers who didn't have the balls to stand up and say that the idiots who ran the show were...well, idiots.

Still, Frank wanted to make absolutely sure: "So, straight up," he said to Laurence, gazing steadily at the man. "Are you saying that the initiatives I've already put in place for next year are cancelled?"

"I'm sorry, Frank," the Chairman replied, and to his credit, he actually sounded sincere.

Frank sat completely still for a moment. Then he put his pen down on the pad of paper he'd always brought to these meetings, but had never, ever used. Maybe that should have been a sign, right there.

"I quit," Gail's brother said calmly. He pushed his chair back from the conference table, got up, and left the boardroom. He didn't look back.

Bobby'd had enough. The spectators were getting restless, and truthfully, so was he. He gestured to Jody.

"What's the holdup?" God asked his friend quietly. "I know that brides have to make an entrance, but where are Frank, and the groom? How about Cas and Gail?"

"Suzanne said she needed to talk to Rob for a minute," Jody replied, "so we left the two of them alone."

"Well, it's been a damn sight more than a minute, now," Bobby said irritably. "What the hell's going on with those two?"

His concern was disguised as annoyance, but it was also contagious. Now, Jody was starting to worry. What the hell WAS going on with those two? What had been so important that Suzanne couldn't wait until after the ceremony to talk to Rob about? Unless... Jody's heart sank into her stomach.

"I'll go see what the holdup is," she told Bobby. Then Jody turned back to Angela, who was talking quietly with her friend Jackie. "I'm going to try to hurry your brother and Suzanne along," Jody said to her daughter. Then she hurried back up the aisle.

Jody encountered her husband and the Angels in the hallway, in the same place where they'd been standing when she and Angela had gone outside. Had they been here this whole time?

"Have they decided where they want to go on their honeymoon?" Cas was asking Frank. "If you need us to, Gail and I can transport them anywhere they want to go, before we leave on our mission."

"Do we know if there's even going to BE a wedding?" Jody asked the trio bluntly. "They've been talking for a long time, now. Bobby's getting antsy."

The others were silent. They supposed it had been a long time, now that they thought about it. They'd been standing here bantering back and forth for the entire time she'd been gone, so they hadn't really noticed.

"Maybe we'd better see what the hell's going on with those two," Frank remarked with a frown. Jody's lips twitched. For an instant, she could picture her husband in a trucker hat, growing a beard. But they'd better sort the kids out, first. The laughs could come later.

Frank took Jody by the hand. "We're gonna go see what's going on," he told the Angels. "Can you guys go out there and tell Bobby to keep his shorts on?"

"Oh, sure. We'll tell our boss, who's God, to keep his shorts on," Gail quipped. "That's what they call a career-limiting move. In our case, being fired could turn out to be literal."

Frank ignored his sister. He knew she was just running her mouth. Obviously, she was starting to become nervous, too.

Cas's mouth tightened. He could feel the tension coming in waves from his human relatives. "Call us if you need us, Frank," he said tersely. Then he grabbed Gail's hand and led her away.

Frank and Jody made their way down the hall. They stopped in front of the door to the bedroom where Rob had been getting ready, before Suzanne had come knocking. Frank tapped lightly on the door.

"Come in." Suzanne's voice. Frank pushed the door open. His and Jody's son and his girlfriend were sitting on the bed together, holding hands. OK, that was a good sign, Frank thought to himself. But then he looked more closely, peering at their faces. On the other hand, maybe not.

Rob and Suzanne were both crying.

**VIGNETTE - I GAVE AT THE OFFICE**

For a couple of days after Frank had resigned his post at City Hall, a number of people had tried to talk him out of it. Interestingly enough, nearly all of those people had been his co-workers. His family, on the other hand, were thrilled. Now, they could all spend more time together.

But somewhat strangely, even though he'd known it was the right decision, Frank had felt depressed about the way things had turned out.

"I had this grand fantasy that being a political figure gave me enough power and influence to get stuff done," Gail's brother was telling his family and friends glumly over drinks. "I thought I could make a difference."

Jody sighed. They had talked about the subject almost endlessly since he'd come home that day, and both she and Rob had tried to reassure him that he had done everything he could. But Frank remained unconvinced.

Gail had been staring at her brother. It was such a shame to see him that way. This should be the happiest time of his life. Jody was back, and Rob was getting married. But she knew what a soft heart Frank had. If he could, he would run around like some kind of wisecracking fairy godfather, bestowing gifts upon all the groups of people who needed help the most. Frank had been so good to Cas, when Gail's husband had been despondent over having made his fatal decision to raid Hell while he'd been in the High Office. It was Frank who had helped pull Cas out of that funk.

Gail looked at Cas, who had also been staring at Frank with a thoughtful expression on his face. "We have to go," Frank's sister said, taking her husband's hand. Then she'd popped the both of them out of Frank's house, leaving a very puzzled group of humans behind.

A couple of days later, Frank was sitting in Neil's office at City Hall, waiting for his ex-colleague to get off the phone. Neil had called him earlier that afternoon, saying that there was some paperwork that Frank had to sign. Gail's brother had rolled his eyes. Of course. Of course there was. Couldn't they just mail it to him, or something? But Neil had insisted, and besides, he'd said, he wanted to buy Frank a beer and shake his hand. Well, if he was gonna put it that way, Frank felt like he had no choice. He'd wanted Neil to know that his resignation was nothing personal. They still hadn't figured out how to explain Jody's return to anyone, but she had urged her husband to go, and spend some time with the man. Neil obviously wanted to express his gratitude.

Neil hung up the phone on his desk. "Sorry about that, Frank. You know how it gets, sometimes. I'm going to go on Voice Mail, now. It's Beer O'Clock. Right?"

Frank grinned. "Sounds good to me. But what about the papers you wanted me to sign?"

"Oh. Right. I forgot," Neil said absently. He rooted around, shifting the files and pieces of paper on his desk from place to place. "Now, let's see: where are those?"

Frank shook his head slowly. "Geez, Neil, I hope you're more organized than this when it comes to other stuff," he commented.

"Hold on; I just remembered: Sarafina took the file," Neil told his former colleague. "She was going to check and make sure that all the boxes were ticked before she gave it to me."

Frank sighed. "OK then, I'll just pop out there and - " He gestured to the outer office, where Neil's assistant's desk was.

"No," Neil said quickly. "She went to the cafeteria for some coffee, right before you got here." His expression brightened. "Tell you what: why don't we go down there and get the papers signed up, and then I'll take you for a beer?"

Gail's brother sighed again, but then he nodded, rising from his chair. If that was what he had to do to get this thing done, then he would do it. At least it was the end of the day, so there shouldn't be too many corporate people there. Frank's ex-staff members had told him that he was the hottest topic of conversation around the office right now. Some people said he'd had a nervous breakdown. Others said that he and that neighbour of his were eloping, and leaving the country. They'd heard he'd had some kind of a meltdown in the board meeting, and lost his temper. Frank had been bemused by that. In a couple of weeks, unless a better topic for idle gossip came along, they would have him ripping his shirt open and upending the conference table, like the Incredible Hulk.

Neil shut down his computer and then the two men left his office. They took the elevator down to the basement, where the employee cafeteria was located.

They stopped short in front of the glass doors. A sign was hanging on the inside that read "Closed For Private Function". What the - ?

Frank looked at Neil, confused. "What's this all about?"

Neil frowned. "Dammit! I told them not to put that on there!"

Frank's eyes narrowed. "Is what I think going on here...what's going on here?"

Neil's forehead wrinkled. "What?"

Frank smirked. For a moment there, he could have sworn he was talking to Gail. "'Who's On First'?" he quipped. Then he peered closely at his companion. "Did you arrange this?"

Neil shook his head. "No. Well, not really. Your sister and her husband came to see me, and I helped with the planning. But, it was Gail's idea. She said you were feeling kind of down, because you didn't think you'd made much of a difference, here."

Frank's lips pressed tightly together. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that. Why was Gail running around talking about that kind of stuff?

"I don't know how you can think that, Frank," Neil went on earnestly. "You're the one who set up those breakfast and lunch programs for the kids, and meal delivery for the seniors-"

Gail's brother interrupted him: "Yeah, that's just because I like food," he wisecracked.

Neil shook his head slowly. "You have no idea, do you? Come on, Frank. I'll buy you that beer, now. In fact, I think there are a lot of people in there who'll want to buy you a drink." He yanked the glass doors open and walked into the cafeteria.

Having little choice, Frank followed.

But that was only Frank's first surprise of the evening. Neil ushered him to a table at the front of the room, which faced a dais that was comprised of a long banquet-style table and chairs, and a podium in the middle.

"What is this, some kind of a roast, or something?" Frank said aloud.

"Yes, it's very impressive," Cas said quickly.

Gail looked at her brother, and then the siblings cracked up laughing, looking at Cas. "No, sweetie, the joke is - " Gail tried to explain, but she was laughing so hard that she couldn't continue.

"It's OK; I'll tell him later," Dean said to her. Then he looked at Frank, who was still standing there, astonished. "Have a seat, buddy. Let Sam buy you a beer."

"He drinks free, tonight," Neil said, clapping Frank on the shoulder. "It's the least we can do, considering the amount of speeches we're going to subject all of you to."

Rob groaned. "In that case, shouldn't we ALL get free drinks?"

Neil laughed. "This must be your son," he remarked. "I can see the resemblance."

"What's this all about?" Frank said, dazed. He sank into an empty chair between Rob and Angela. He looked around automatically for Jody, but of course, she was nowhere to be seen. As far as everyone else was concerned, Frank was still a widower. Then he looked around a bit more, and his amazement grew. There were tables all over the room, packed with people he knew. Co-workers, neighbours, people from the cancer charity, cops that Jody used to work with, their spouses...

Cops? What the hell? Frank thought. What would former co-workers of Jody's be doing here?

"We have a surprise for you," Gail said, leaning down to talk in her brother's ear.

"No kidding," he responded, still dazed.

But Frank had misunderstood. The Angels had an even better surprise in store for him. Gail was smiling widely; she was extremely proud of herself for having come up with the idea.

A seed had been planted in Gail's mind the night that Jody had come back, and over the next week or so, it had grown into a full-blown idea. She'd seen a movie once, where a group of magicians had knocked out an entire audience of people and physically transported them elsewhere. Then they had reawakened the audience in the second location, making them believe that they had been "magicked" there.

She'd run her idea past Cas, and he had thought that it was a good one. The only problem was the logistics. Couldn't they just run around and modify all of the people who were likely to cross paths with Frank and Jody? Gail had asked him. He supposed they could, but it would be very difficult to be sure they had located everyone. Besides, quite frankly, they didn't have the time. The November deadline was looming all too quickly, and as much as the Angels loved their human family, they didn't have the luxury of that kind of time, right now.

But Gail was like a terrier, worrying a bone. There had to be a way. She didn't want to go away for who knew how long and leave her poor brother and sister-in-law without a resolution to the situation. It was too bad that they couldn't just get them all crowded into one spot, like that movie...

Then Frank had resigned, paving the way for his sister to implement her idea. She grabbed him by the sleeve, now.

"Come here with me," Gail said, pulling Frank out of his chair. She gestured to Rob. "Get your Dad a drink," she instructed Frank's son. "Actually, get him two."

"Oh, here she goes, bossing people around, again," Dean complained, rolling his eyes.

"Just for that, you're on deck," Gail retorted. "Open up that wallet, and let the dust bunnies out."

Frank snickered as his sister led him away from their table. "You're going to love this," Gail said to him, once they were out of everyone's earshot.

"What the hell..." Frank began, but she held up her hand. "Just a minute," Gail said, pointing to the dais. "Watch."

Bobby stepped up to the microphone. "Is everybody here?" he said into it. "We're about to begin."

The question was mainly just for show. Gabriel was popping around unobtrusively, counting heads and making sure everyone was herded into the room. Even one straggler could blow the whole operation. Bobby's question was meant to be a signal to Gabe that he was ready to roll, if the Archangel gave him the high sign.

Gabriel did, and Bobby lifted his arms in the air. "I'd like to welcome all of you here today," he said. He made a sweeping gesture.

"OK, what the actual - " Frank started to say, and then his mouth fell open. Every human in the room was completely still, frozen in place.

"I've gotta say, that's one of Dad's parlour tricks I always really liked," Gabe said, strolling through the aisles between the tables. He paused beside Dean, who was frozen in the act of lifting a beer bottle to his lips. "Nice face, Dean-o."

Cas rose from his chair. "I'll call Jody, and see if she's ready," he told the others.

Gail laughed at the look on her brother's face. As Bobby and Gabriel started moving from table to table, she explained: the Angels were performing a modification on each and every person in the room. Well, except for their own immediate family, of course. In a few minutes, when Bobby un-froze everyone, the people who had been modified would have absolutely no recollection of Jody having died, or even of her having been afflicted with brain cancer.

Cas approached the siblings. "I'm going to pop over to your house and get Jody," he told Frank. "We'll get the two of you settled at your table, and then Gail and I will help with the remainder of the modifications."

Frank was open-mouthed. "So, this whole thing was just a put-on?"

Gail shook her head. "Actually, no," she said with a smile. "I admit that it kind of was, at first. But when we talked to Neil, he said that a number of people here wanted to give you a good sendoff. After the modifications are done, everybody's going to believe you retired, so you and Jody can do some traveling, and stuff. This is your retirement party."

Cas gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and a brief squeeze. "We'll be back in a moment," he said, and then he was gone.

"I'm going to go help Bobby and Gabriel," Gail told her brother. She grinned. "You can help yourself at the bar, if you want. Nobody'll be the wiser. In fact, get me a rye and ginger ale, while you're at it. If we have to sit there listening to a bunch of politicians making speeches, I'm going to need the fortification." She glanced at their table, smirking. "I might have to get Bobby to take my confession later, 'cause I'm really, really tempted to modify Dean into thinking he promised to buy our drinks all night."

Frank laughed. "You know something, kiddo? You're all right." Gail's smile widened. "I don't know why Sam and Dean keep saying you Angels are dicks," her brother added, affecting an innocent expression.

"See, now, we were having a nice moment there, and you had to go and ruin it," Gail said, rolling her eyes. But the siblings were both smiling, and then Frank held his arms open. "C'mere."

He hugged her tightly for a couple of beats. "Go and do your thing," Frank said, releasing her. "I think I'll mosey on over to the bar."

"'Mosey'? Well then, off you go, pardner," Bobby said dryly, walking past the two of them. He looked at Gail. "You gonna pitch in, here?"

"Sir, yes, Sir," she responded, giving him a playful salute.

"Oh, and I heard what you said about Dean," Bobby added, and now his beard was twitching. "I'm willing to look the other way, on that one."

Gail laughed and moved away, starting at the table where Frank's closest neighbours on the street were sitting. She looked at Joanne, thinking how strange it would be when she and her daughter were reanimated. They would have the false memory of Jody having lived there with Frank and the kids this whole time. And even better, Joanne would have no recollection of having been interested in Frank, herself. It was a win-win, as far as Gail was concerned.

Gail and Gabriel met in the middle of the room as they moved from table to table. "Look," the Archangel said, giving her a gentle nudge.

Frank and Jody were both at the bar now, and they were embracing. Cas was smiling at the couple warmly, an almost paternal expression on his face.

"I wish I'd been there, to see the looks on all of your faces," Gabe said softly. "That husband of yours can be pretty cool, sometimes. Don't tell him I said that, though."

Gail shook her head slowly. "Oh, of course I won't. Heaven forbid you should ever be caught saying something nice about someone," she quipped.

Gabriel grinned, moving on.

Cas began to help with the modifications too, and with all four of them circulating around the room, the job was finished in no time. Frank and Jody were sitting at their table now, staring at everyone else with bemused expressions on their faces.

"Why'd you freeze these guys?" Jody asked Bobby, gesturing to the occupants of their table.

"Just for the sheer entertainment value," Bobby replied, and they all laughed.

"Ready to get this shindig going?" Gabriel asked the couple.

"I don't know," Frank mused with a grin. "Maybe we should leave some of the corporate asshats frozen, for a while."

Jody gave him a kiss, smiling. "Let's get this show on the road, Bobby," she said. "I can't wait any longer to be resurrected."

A minute or so later, Bobby waved his arms again, and everyone began to move as if nothing had happened.

"A few of us would like to say a couple of things about the guest of honour," Neil said into the microphone from the dais.

The guests settled down, and Neil cleared his throat. Then he said, "I've been informed that there are a number of you who want to speak, so I'll be brief. I won't lie: I'll be very sorry to see Frank go. He's just about the best type of individual you could ever meet. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he saved my life. Literally. Frank saved me, because he was the only one to take a minute and notice me as a human being. I was cold, homeless, and starving. I had given up on life, and what's worse, I had given up on myself. Now, I have a good job, a house, and a new bride. And, just to add to all the blessings I've been given, Isabel is expecting a baby! I haven't even told Frank about that, yet. I expect him and his family to come to my new son, or daughter's, christening, and I can't wait until my child is old enough to be told about what Frank did for us. I want my child to grow up with empathy and compassion for others. I was on the verge of doing something drastic when Frank intervened in my life, but look at all of the great things I would have missed out on." Neil raised a glass. Bobby had brought him a beer before reanimating everyone, knowing that Neil was due to make the first toast.

"Here's to Frank: my former co-worker, and my friend," Neil toasted Gail's brother. "Good luck on your retirement, and if you need anything, anything at all, you make sure to call me, first."

Everyone toasted, and Jody was looking at her husband fondly. She had been looking forward to this occasion for a few reasons. Being able to re-emerge in public was huge, of course. But she was also thrilled with the idea of meeting her husband's former colleagues, and hearing their testimonials about him. Frank got far too little credit sometimes, in Jody's opinion. He had given up the Hunting life to get a safe and steady job and raise their kids, and she knew he missed the action and excitement every once in a while. Truth be told, now that Jody had come back as a completely healthy individual, so did she. That was going to have to be one of the topics of discussion between the two of them, going forward.

But first, there was this. Jody went from feeling affectionate towards Frank to being impressed to feeling nearly awestruck, as person after person got up and made speech after speech about Frank, and all of the good things he had done for the community.

And it didn't stop there. A little while and a few drinks later, a man in a three-piece designer suit stepped up to the podium. He took a pair of glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on, and then he took a sheet of paper out of his pants pocket, spreading the paper out on the podium.

The man cleared his throat. "M-my name is K-K-Ken. I'll j-just wait a second, while you get all those F-fish Called Wanda jokes out of your sys-system."

Some of those assembled looked puzzled, but Sam's lips twitched with amusement at the movie reference.

Frank would have normally found the comment funny too, but right now, his predominant reaction was that of amazement. "Poindexter?" he said softly.

"It was my attendance at an open city council meeting here that changed the course of my life," Ken said into the microphone, "although I d-didn't know it, at the time. I was an awkward individual, with no s-self-confidence, and n-no fashion sense." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "I had a very pronounced s-s-s-stutter, if you can imagine that. B-but I had some ideas on how to help m-my community. When I s-stood up in front of the council, though, my p-presentation didn't go so well."

Ken paused, taking a sip from his glass of wine. "Sorry, everyone," he said after a moment. "My s-speech therapist taught me to slow it down, if I f-feel nervous. Anyway, I left that meeting feeling really down on m-myself. B-but then, Frank tracked me down, and he said that my ideas were too good to w-waste. H-he said that he couldn't get the funding, b-but if I had any other ideas, we could talk about them. Fr-Fr-" Ken stopped, taking a deep breath and another sip of wine. He was becoming emotional now, and he wanted to get this right. He owed it to Frank.

"Frank asked me about myself, and my ideas," Ken said slowly, keeping his tone even. "He asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I told him that my dream was to own a clothing store. You should have seen the look on his face. I don't blame him for looking like he did." Ken smiled again. "I didn't exactly look the type. I wore mismatched clothes, horn-rimmed glasses, and I had a severe stutter. But we kept on talking, and he listened patiently, and then he told me that he would be willing to help me get my start in business by loaning me some money. He made it clear that it would be his own money, not the city's. I just sat there, looking at him. Finally, I asked him why. Why would he do that? He said there were a few reasons. He told me he wanted to make it up to me for the way that the board had brushed me off, at the meeting that day. He said he had learned to look beyond peoples' outward appearances, and judge what kind of people they were inside. Frank said that he was impressed that my presentation to the council was an idea about how to help some lower-income families, and I told him I had a bunch of those. So he said that he would front me the money to buy an outlet store, on one condition: that I take a percentage of the profits and donate them to local charities."

Ken took another pause. He hadn't stuttered once, he thought proudly. Frank was smiling, giving him the thumbs-up. Thus encouraged, Ken continued, "I haven't seen Frank in a while, because I've been so busy hiring staff for my second and third stores. And every person I hire has to promise me that they will devote some of their spare time, money, or resources to charitable causes. We had a food and clothing drive last month that raised ten thousand dollars in monetary donations, alone. When Frank came to see me that day, I was at my lowest point. But now here I am, the proprietor of a franchise business, with a lot m-more self-confidence, helping my community. I asked Frank why he thought that helping me was a good idea, and he said that I was the first ripple in the pond. I see that, now. My employees do good works, and so on, and so on. All because Frank saw something in me that nobody else ever had. Including me. S-so, even though I have a morbid f-fear of speaking in public, I had to c-come here today, to add my thanks."

Ken took a deep breath and then lifted his wine glass. "A toast, to my hero, and my friend. To Frank."

They all toasted, and as the guests applauded Ken, Jody leaned across the table. "I think we might have to have a talk about the canonization process for my husband," she said to Bobby, who had joined their group.

"Sure; he can be the Patron Saint of Bad Dad jokes," Bobby wisecracked.

"We'll take a break now, so that everybody can get a drink," Neil said into the microphone. "There are snacks available on the table at the back of the room, too. But don't worry about driving home; Laurence has taxi chits for anyone who needs one, whether they're city employees, or not. We're just following Frank's altruistic example."

"No, they're not," Frank grumbled. "Those corporate asshats just don't want to be on the hook for any potential liability."

"I've always wondered about that" Gail said, poking her brother's arm. "Can you just use any combination of compound words to make up an insult? Ass-hat, jerk-face..."

"Go ahead; I know you want to say it," Cas said, looking at Dean with a gentle smile.

"'Ass-butt'," Dean said, smirking, and the occupants of their table all laughed.

"It's cuter when you say it," Gail said to her husband, and his smile widened.

"'Oat-brain'," Bobby piped up, and their heads all swiveled to look at him. He shrugged. "That's what the kids in my school used to call the other kids who were a little slow."

Dean did a double-take, and then he said, "Ass-clown was always one of my favourites. I don't think Sammy likes that one too much, though."

Sam made a face at his brother. It was no secret in their immediate family that the younger Winchester hated and feared clowns.

"Egg-head," Gabriel contributed. He had just arrived at their table carrying a large tray, laden with drinks for everyone. Gail peered closely. The Archangel was pretending to hold the tray with both hands, but it was actually hovering an inch or so above them. At least he was being discreet about it.

"Give me a hand here, guys," Gabe said to the Winchesters.

Dean started to lift full glasses and bottles from the tray, and everyone passed them around the table. But Sam sat back with his arms folded, raising an eyebrow to Gabriel. "Egg-head, huh? Were you referring to me, with that remark?"

"Smart-ass," Gabriel muttered, and Gail laughed. "There's another one!" she exclaimed.

He put a glass of wine in front of her, and then a bottle of beer in front of Frank. "That one's on me, Frankster," Gabe told him. "Actually, they all are," he said to the table in general. "I might have modified the bartender, just a bit."

Cas sighed. "I'll go and pay for the drinks," he said, shaking his head at his brother.

"What?" Gabe said to him, shrugging. He pulled up a chair and squeezed in-between Gail and Frank.

Cas stood from his chair, giving the Archangel a baleful stare. Then he walked away from the table.

"He's way too ethical," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. "You should work on that, Kitten."

Gail gave him the side-eye. "Either that, or maybe you should develop some scruples," she retorted.

Gabriel smirked. "Nice try, but that's never gonna happen."

Neil approached their table, asking to be introduced around. He had never met Jody, although not for the reason the memory modification he'd received told him. As far as Neil and everyone else here was concerned, Jody had up until recently had a law enforcement career of her own. That was why no one at City Hall had made her acquaintance; because she and Frank had been juggling child-rearing with full-time jobs. And there was also Jody's charity work. The modifications didn't include erasing her first bout with cancer, because it was common knowledge that Frank's wife had worked with the cancer society for a number of years now, due to her own cancer scare. That was also a misdirection, but it was a necessary one. Jody had come back from the Afterlife intact, and her old friend Dr. Vukovich was also here at Frank's "retirement party". She had come here out of affection for her late friend, but the doctor would leave tonight thanking God that Jody's breast lump had been benign.

After a few minutes' socializing, Neil went back to the dais. "If I can get everybody's attention again, there's someone else who wants to speak. Then, that'll conclude the speeches for the night, and we can all mix and mingle. Gail?"

Frank's sister got up from her chair and started to walk toward the dais.

"I might need a few minutes for rebuttal," Frank called out, getting a big laugh from the guests.

Gail was smiling as she took the microphone from Neil, thanking Frank's former colleague. She waited until the laughter died down.

"When my brother first got here this evening, he asked us if this was some kind of a roast," she began. "We all assured him it wasn't, and we were sincere. But I'm his little sister, and if I can't give him a hard time, I'm not doing my job."

Another ripple of laughter went through the room, and then Gail said, "But, based on what I've heard here tonight, I may have to go a little easy on him. The way things are going, if Frank gets canonized, I'd better stay on his good side."

Gail smiled apologetically at Jody. It had been too good of a line not to use. "But seriously," Frank's sister continued, "I have to tell all of you a couple of things about my big brother. As far back as I can remember, Frank always looked out for me. It's something we don't really talk about much, even to this day, but: our parents died when we were still very young, and Frank was all I had. He took care of me and raised me the rest of the way without ever complaining, or giving me the feeling that I was a burden. He sacrificed so much for me, I just can't even begin to tell you..."

Her throat went dry as emotion took over. It was amazing what you took for granted when you were a little kid. Even now, Gail had gotten so used to having Frank around that she had almost forgotten what it was like when she'd thought she had lost him forever. That was something the siblings would never be able to talk about outside of their family circle, of course, but everyone at Frank's table knew how she was feeling now.

Cas rose quickly from his seat, bringing his wife the glass of wine she'd been drinking from. She took it from him with a look of gratitude, then drank a sip or two as Cas returned to their table.

"For those of you who don't know, that was my husband, Cas," Gail said, collecting herself. "It's a good thing I'm not up here to praise HIM, because I'd talk all night. But I guess Frank's pretty OK, too."

She gave her brother a toothy grin, and he laughed. They wouldn't be who they were if one of them was overly effusive about the other one. Still, Gail wanted to finish on a sincere, sentimental note. So she took one more sip of wine, then put her glass down, considering what she wanted to say.

"Pretty much everybody in this room knows what siblings are like," Gail continued. "We have our ups and downs. Nobody can give each other a hard time like siblings do, and nobody can mix it up like we do. But, ultimately, nobody can stick up for each other like we do, and nobody can love each other like we do."

She picked up her glass. "I've heard a lot of wonderful things about Frank tonight, some of which I didn't have any idea about. But that doesn't surprise me. My big brother's been a hero for practically his whole life. He's just not the kind of man to go around letting people know about it, that's all. So, here's to my brother, the superhero. I love you, Frank."

Gail raised her glass in a toast. "To Frank," the guests said, and everyone drank.

She made her way back to their family's table, and Frank rose from his seat, pulling his sister to him for a hug. "I love you too, kiddo," Frank said in a thick voice.

That had been a terrific night. Once the speeches had wrapped up, all of the guests had started to mill around, getting more drinks at the bar or filling their plates with the hors d'oeuvres that were being set out by the cafeteria workers. They had all stayed late to prepare and serve the food because Frank was so popular with the entire service staff. As he filled his plate with his favourite foods, Frank greeted them all by name, introducing the employees to Jody. Rob and Suzanne were in line at the bar, and Angela and Jackie were sitting at Joanne's table, their heads close together, as always.

Then Jody had interacted with her former police colleagues, and the people from the cancer charity. It was so strange to be chatting with everyone casually, as if she'd never been gone. But it sure as Hell beat the alternative.

Jody was thinking about that party now as she and Frank had entered the bedroom to talk to their son and his fiancee, and she was also thinking about another party that was supposed to be happening at that very moment. Both she and Frank had come knocking at the door intending to chide the young couple. What was the holdup? They had a whole host of guests, waiting on them.

But as soon as Rob's mom and dad saw the prospective bride and groom crying, they closed the bedroom door softly behind them.

"What's the matter?" Jody asked the two of them, a concerned look on her face.


	6. I Choose You

**Chapter 2 - I Choose You**

As the young couple and Rob's parents were talking in one of the spare bedrooms at Cas and Gail's house, Gail and Nicole were moving to the kitchen.

Once the Angels had left Frank and Jody to sort out what was happening with Rob and Suzanne, Cas had wanted to go to the kitchen and see if Barry needed any help. So Gail's husband had done that, and Gail had continued on outside, to assure Bobby that they were trying to move things along.

Bobby's beard was twitching with irritation, but there was nothing to be done at the moment. Fortunately, it didn't appear as if the guests were getting too restless; at least, not most of them, anyway. Predictably enough, Dean was sitting in the front row with Nicole and Sam, and the elder Winchester was fidgeting.

"What the hell, Gail?" Dean said in a stage whisper, gesturing to her. She went to where he was sitting, repeating what she had said to Bobby. Dean let out a frustrated breath, sitting back in his chair.

"I'm going to see if Cas needs any help in the kitchen," Gail told them. "If you think YOU'RE antsy, just think how HE feels."

She'd gotten him, there. Dean couldn't help but smirk as he pictured Cas in the kitchen wearing a frilly apron, icing the wedding cake.

"I'll come with you," Nicole volunteered, rising from her seat. "Gabriel picked me up a few minutes ago, and since I was running late – or so I thought – I didn't get the chance to grab a drink of water." She grinned. "I can try and help you talk Cas off the ledge."

The women went back up the aisle as Dean pulled at the collar of his shirt again. He was starting to regret having worn the monkey suit, but the alternative was to have to look at that tight-assed expression on Cas's face, if Dean objected to wearing a suit to a family wedding.

Actually, all things considered, Dean was fairly content, at the moment. He and Nicole had been able to spend some quality time together over the summer, and now that she was back to work, he and Sammy were going to hit the road again. The Winchesters had attended Rob's stag party with the usual suspects a few days ago, and they'd had a really good time.

Nicole and Gail entered the kitchen and saw that Cas was indeed helping Barry to make the rosettes for the finishing touches to the wedding cake. Nicole's lips twitched furiously. Dean had been right on the money, although Cas wasn't wearing an apron of any kind. Too bad. Maybe, if Dean was really, really good, Nicole would tell her boyfriend a little white lie about that, just to make him happy.

"I'm sorry that Carolyn and Peter couldn't make it," Cas was saying to Barry.

"They couldn't? Why not?" Gail asked the men, as Nicole moved to the cupboard to get a glass. Cas's wife was puzzled. She'd seen Mike outside sitting next to Ilene, and she had just assumed that Carolyn was inside the house, maybe in the washroom, or something. But now that Gail thought about it, she hadn't seen Peter, either.

Barry was bustling around the kitchen, rinsing mixing bowls and utensils. His suit jacket was draped over one of the chairs, and he had his shirt sleeves rolled up. "It's a long story," he said. "We'll tell you later."

"What's going on?" Cas said, rushing toward Gail. She noticed with great amusement that he had a dab of cake icing on his cheek, and another one on his nose. It was unfortunate that they weren't alone; otherwise, she would have been sorely tempted to have him lean down, so she could lick it off.

But now was not the time, so Gail waved her hand and cleaned it from his face instead, sighing. "I have no idea," she told him. "We're still in a holding pattern."

Nicole filled her water glass half-full from the tap, drinking it down in a few gulps. "What's the matter, you guys?" she asked.

"Nothing's the matter. Nothing," Rob told his parents.

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to your face," Frank retorted. "I haven't seen this much crying since George Clooney got married."

Jody had opened her mouth to speak, but she looked at her husband now with a baleful expression. She knew very well about his propensity for bad jokes in stressful situations, but he wasn't helping.

"You can tell us," Jody said to the young couple. "Whatever it is, you can tell us. We'll help you figure it out." She looked at Suzanne. "Are you nervous?" Then, she looked at Rob. "Are YOU? It's OK if you are. I was really nervous before I married your father."

"But she did it, anyway," Frank piped up. "So, really, that's on her."

"Don't make me regret my decision," Jody shot back.

Somewhat surprisingly, Rob laughed. "I've missed that," he told them.

Suzanne stood up from her sitting position on the bed, and now she was smiling, too. "I'm sorry if we scared you. We were crying because we're happy. I'm pregnant."

Jody's mouth fell open. Holy crap. Here, she'd been thinking that the two of them were going to call off the wedding, and Suzanne was telling them that they were going to be grandparents?

"Seriously?" Frank said in a dazed voice. "For real?"

"For real, Dad," Rob replied, rising slowly. "I'm going to be a father. Me. And you're going to be a-"

"-very happy man," Frank interrupted his son. "Let's give us a minute to get used to the idea, before we start throwing the G-word around." He opened his arms. "C'mere, kiddo."

Rob hugged his father, and Jody hugged Suzanne.

"I'm not scared to get married, but I am a little scared of this whole pregnancy thing," Suzanne confessed.

"Don't worry about a thing," Jody reassured her. "I'll help you out with any questions you might have. It wasn't that long ago I had Angela, you know."

"We'll get Bobby to add a bigger wing to our place," Frank told the young couple. "Unless you want a place of your own."

Rob and Suzanne looked at each other. "If it's okay with you guys, we'd just like to stay at home," Rob said to his parents. "Maybe, when the baby's older, we'll talk about it some more."

"Yeah. Like, when he or she is 30 years old," Suzanne quipped, and all four of them laughed.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you want," Jody assured them. She and Frank switched then, giving Jody the opportunity to embrace her son. Then, Frank pulled them all in for a group hug.

"So, what do you say?" Frank said, sniffling back a few tears. "Feel like having a wedding?"

Ilene had been starting to fidget, so Mike sent her over to where Joanne was sitting. Angela and Jackie were talking and giggling in the seats beside her. Then Ilene sat beside her "cousin" Angela. Soon, all three girls were chattering away, and Mike was smiling.

Carolyn's boyfriend was thinking about the note that he and Barry had found at their house that morning. When Mike had woken up, Carolyn was nowhere to be seen. That didn't concern him, though. It was Rob and Angela's wedding day, so Mike was sure that his lady friend and Barry were off somewhere, picking out what to wear. Mike only had one suit that he wore to weddings, funerals, christenings, etc., etc. He didn't really see the need for more than one. After all, it wasn't like he was working on Wall Street, or anything.

Still, he guessed he should at least see if his dress shirt was presentable. If it was too wrinkly, Mike could just give it a quick once-over with the iron. Actually, he was pretty sure that the second his feet hit the ground floor of the house, Barry would be whisking the shirt out of his hands, telling Mike he would do it, so it would get done right.

Mike yawned and stretched, putting on his slippers. If anybody had told him a number of years ago that he would be living with a woman, but not married to her, in a house where a gay man that neither one of them was related to ruled the roost, Mike would have told them that they were crazy. Oh, and there was the not-so-small matter of co-parenting two kids, neither of which were Mike's. A lot of people would probably think it was an odd arrangement, and it likely was. But, it worked for them.

Mike put his ratty old bathrobe on and moved slowly over to the closet, still trying to work the kinks out. When you worked in the field of manual labour, something was always sore. But he loved working on cars. Maybe someday, he would be able to open up his own shop. Technically, he could already, he supposed, if he was willing to take money from Barry for the start-up costs. Tommy's widower had offered to give Mike the capital, and when Mike had balked at that, he had offered to loan him the money, at zero interest. But Mike had been too proud to accept the money, even from a person he thought of as family. He and Carolyn were doing very well financially. He would get there; he just wanted to do it on his own.

They were all in a pretty good place right now, even though the shadow of Tommy's murder still cast a pall over the house, and it always would. Mike and Carolyn had privately discussed broaching the subject of relocating to Barry, but it was such an emotionally charged issue that they weren't sure how to do it. Besides, the kids loved their school, and they were both doing well in their classes. Now that fall had come again, they had all eased back into their routines, with nothing resolved as far as their domestic situation was concerned. If anything even needed to BE resolved, that was.

One thing Mike had been contemplating changing was his and Carolyn's marital status. Rob and Suzanne's impending ceremony had been another reminder that Mike and Carolyn were still "living in sin", as the expression went. Neither of them cared, really; nor did any of their extended family members, which, ironically enough, were half comprised of a bunch of Angels, and God. But maybe it was time, after all this time.

Mike's mouth opened wide as he geared up for one more stretch and yawn before hitting the shower. First, though, he wanted to check on that dress shirt.

He slid the closet doors open and stopped short, mid-yawn. Roughly half of Carolyn's clothes were gone.

Frank strode into the kitchen, and his feet didn't touch the ground once.

"Hey! What's everybody standing around for? We've got a wedding to go to!" Gail's brother said cheerfully, clapping his hands together smartly.

Cas let out a relieved breath. He had been beginning to worry that the nuptials were not going to proceed at all. He rushed forward to where Gail stood, taking her hand. She waved her free hand over her husband, cleaning a few stray bits of frosting from his face, and his jacket.

"I'm glad you're here," Frank said to Nicole. She'd hung out a few minutes longer, leaning idly against the kitchen counter. It was better than going out there and watching Dean fidget like a three-year-old. "Can you help Suzanne with her makeup, and her veil? You might have to help Jody, too. We had a little bit of a sob session, in there."

Nicole's forehead wrinkled, but she put her water glass down on the counter and left the kitchen without a word.

"Is everything OK, Frank?" Barry asked, wiping his hands with a kitchen towel. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs and shrugged it on.

"Yeah, it's fine, Barry. Just fine," Frank replied automatically. He was still dazed at the news. "Go ahead and take your seat. We'll be right out."

"OK, Frank. Thanks for the help, Cas," Barry said, and then he left the kitchen, too.

"What's going on?" Gail confronted her brother. "If there's going to be a wedding, why's everybody crying?"

Frank looked at the couple. He was dying to tell them, but he didn't know if he should. People were funny about that kind of stuff. If Frank had his way, he would hire a plane to skywrite the news across the whole city, kind of like a Baby Bat Signal. Frank was so happy and proud that he had to keep looking down to make sure the buttons weren't flying right off of his shirt. But it was Rob and Suzanne's announcement to make, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

Frank grabbed Cas's free hand, startling his brother-in-law, and slapped it on his own forehead. "Read my mind, Cas. Quick."

Gail looked at Frank's face. What the hell was - ? Suddenly, because she was holding Cas's hand, she saw what he was seeing: Suzanne, holding a tiny baby, and Rob smiling down at them. Frank and Jody next to the couple with their arms around each other, crying happy tears.

"Oh, my God," Gail said softly. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. "You're going to be a Grandpa?!"

"Shhh!" Frank hissed, gesturing frantically as Cas removed his hand from Frank's head, stunned by what he had just seen. "I don't think they want anybody to know, yet! If anybody asks, Cas read my mind by accident. Jody'll be a lot more likely to kill me than the guy who brought her back from the Afterlife."

Cas opened his mouth to correct Frank, but then, he thought better of it. Every time the subject came up, Gail's husband had attempted to transfer the credit for Jody's return to Jody, where it belonged. But Frank kept insisting that if it hadn't been for Cas, his wife would have been lost to him forever. Gail had joked that if Cas had been a less scrupulous person, he could be getting a lot of mileage out of that.

So Cas didn't have the heart to amend Frank's praise any more, and besides, he had something much more important to say, now: "Group hug!" the Angel exclaimed, opening his arms wide.

Bobby and Gabriel were the first ones to hear it, and they looked at each other, trying to suppress the grins that were spreading across their faces. Cas and Gail had been so thrilled by the news that they had inadvertently broadcast it over Angel Radio.

So, by the time Bobby received the high sign from Gabriel that they were ready to roll, every Angel in the seats knew about the joyous news.

Linda stood with the rest of the guests when Bobby announced that they were ready to proceed. She gave Paul's hand a quick squeeze, and he grinned. There had been a time when Linda had felt a little depressed that she would never become a grandmother, herself. She and Kevin were both Angels, making that an unattainable goal. But she had been able to live vicariously to a certain extent through Frank's family, as part of her own extended family. First, by watching little Robbie grow into a fine young man, and then, by being one of the Angel corps that Bobby called upon to help watch Angela, from time to time. And now, they were going to have another new baby to help take care of. A brand new generation. How great was that?

As humans, they had no idea what was transpiring right now between the Angels. All Sam and Dean knew that it was about time they got things started. Nicole had scurried back up the aisle after helping the bride and the mother of the groom repair their makeup. She'd been hoping to get a clue about what had been going on; specifically, why there had been crying. But neither woman had mentioned anything about it, and Nicole had felt that it was too forward to ask. Maybe it had just been happy crying. Actually, Nicole could see that: after all, none of them had ever thought that they would see Frank and Jody standing together, walking their son down the aisle.

Once Rob and his parents reached the front of the spectators' section where Bobby was standing, waiting to officiate, Sam caught Rob's eye and gave the young man a thumbs-up. Rob grinned, returning the signal.

Neither Winchester had seen Rob since his stag party, which had taken place the weekend before. It was a good thing they'd had the week to recover, too, for a couple of reasons. They'd had the usual booze-up, of course, but earlier in the day, Frank had signed the men up for paintball. Amazingly enough, that was something that none of the human Hunters in their family had ever done. The only one who'd had any prior experience was Kevin, who'd gone with a group of "fellow nerds", as he'd called them, in high school.

For men who hunted and used weapons for a vocation, the brothers had been strangely excited to play. Yeah, that was because they couldn't wait to bust a few dozen caps of brightly-coloured paint in his ass, Frank had said sarcastically. But, he had news for them: he'd begged, borrowed and stolen to make it happen, but Cas had agreed to be on Frank's team. The Winchesters were going down, and they were going down hard. Frank would give them half the guys on his team, if they wanted. They didn't stand a chance.

But Sam and Dean had exchanged amused looks, and then suggested they place a wager on the outcome. They knew something that Frank still didn't, even after all these years. Cas was a fearsome warrior, an artist with his blade. But he was a terrible shot.

It had been hilarious to see Frank's face when his team started dropping like flies at the business end of the Winchesters' paintball guns. "You're playing on our turf now, Cas!" Sam had yelled at their Angel friend. He and Dean had unleashed a barrage of shots as Cas dove behind a bush, rolled, and popped up on the other side of a tree. He'd tried squeezing off a few shots of his own, all of which missed both Winchesters by a country mile. Then they flanked him, and a few minutes later, Cas's clothes had been rainbow-coloured.

Then the brothers had gone after Frank, who had raised his hands in surrender. He had promised them all kinds of rewards if they stood down, but as the brothers' grins grew wider, their friend knew his fate was sealed. So Frank had let his paintball gun fall to the ground, closed his eyes tight and screwed up his face, inviting them to do their worst.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "This one's for drinking the last freakin' beer in the fridge, before Sammy got back with fresh supplies," Dean said to Gail's brother, aiming his paintball gun at the centre of Frank's chest.

"Oh, boo hoo. You had to wait all of ten minutes," Frank retorted.

"Those were the longest ten minutes of my life," Dean countered with. BANG! A bloom of bright colour appeared on Frank's torso.

"Ow," Frank said calmly, even though it had actually hurt a bit more than he'd thought it would. "Is that all you've got?"

Sam cleared his throat. "This is for bringing over that keg, for my birthday," the younger Winchester said to their friend.

"I'm sensing a theme, here," Frank said with a smirk. "But, so what? That was a birthday present."

"Yeah. It would have been, if you'd brought the tap," Sam said dryly. BANG! He shot Frank in the stomach.

"OK, you guys. You've gotten your revenge, now - " Frank started to say, but Dean held up his hand.

"Hold up," the older Winchester said, gesturing with his paintball gun. "You're not going anywhere."

"OK, come on, Winchester. I'm not just gonna stand here all day and let you guys wail on me," Frank protested.

"We've got one more, and then that'll be it, we promise," Dean said, his lips twitching furiously. "But this is a big one, and it's one we've owed you for years and years, now. This is for rolling your little sister off the truck, that night."

He and Sam let go with a barrage of paint. Frank bore the hits stoically, glad that they'd all be going for a buttload of drinks, in a minute.

Then, mercifully, it was over. "OK, I guess I really deserved that last one," Frank acknowledged with a grin.

"Just a moment," Cas objected, emerging from the forest. "I believe I owe you one for that, as well."

Frank regarded his brother-in-law dubiously. "Really?"

"Yes. Really," Cas echoed. He approached Frank, holding his paintball gun at waist level.

"He's bluffing," Sam stated.

"Am I?" Cas said coolly, wearing his best poker face.

Frank heaved a sigh. "Well, I hate to say it, but Cas has a point. I mean, he's married to her. At least you guys get a break, every now and then."

"Here it comes," Cas said, starting to smile.

Frank scrunched up his face again to prepare for the impact, as the Winchesters watched with great anticipation.

THUD! Cas dropped his gun on the ground and launched himself at Frank, enveloping Gail's brother in an epic bear hug.

"Oh, way to take the manliness out of paintball," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know, Dean," Sam remarked, looking at the brothers-in-law. "When you think about it, Cas is just giving Frank what he deserves." He dropped his own gun, joining the mens' embrace.

"Bring it in, Winchester," Frank said, gesturing to Dean.

Dean let out a breath, looking around furtively. There was nobody in sight. Presumably, Rob and Kevin and some of the others were in the clubhouse, cleaning up.

He dropped his gun and joined in the group hug. The men embraced for a moment, and then Dean pulled out of the hug. "Let us never speak of this, again," he lectured the others, pointing at each man individually.

The quartet picked up their guns and went off to join the other men.

As Mike, Barry and Ilene watched Rob and his parents take their places, Barry swallowed the lump in his throat. Rob was so grown up, now. Barry was thinking back to the time that he and a teenaged Rob had been living in the bunker for the better part of a year, agonizing every day over the safety of their family members who were fighting the war against Lucifer's armies. That had been a miserable year, but Barry had never felt so paternal in his entire life. It was that experience which had led Barry and Tommy to decide to have their own wedding once the danger had passed, and to adopt little Ilene.

Mike was missing Carolyn and Peter right now, but once he and Barry had come upon the note she'd left them in the kitchen of their house, the men really couldn't blame her for not being here. The reason that what looked like half of her clothes had been missing from their closet was because Carolyn had gotten up in the wee hours of the morning to take a phone call, she had explained in her note. Carolyn and Tommy's estranged father was dying. He didn't have very long, so if Carolyn wanted to see him one last time, she needed to get there, now.

Carolyn was facing a dilemma. They were supposed to go to Rob and Suzanne's wedding, and her father was a religious fundamentalist bastard. James had washed his hands of Tommy years ago, when his son had announced to the family that he was gay. As a younger sibling, Carolyn had been too intimidated by "King James" to stand up to him at the time. Brother and sister had sarcastically referred to their father as "King James" because of his fondness for the Bible, as both an instructional and a disciplinary tool. When they'd been kids, their father had thought nothing of whacking one of his children upside the head with the thick volume he read to them from, if he felt that said child wasn't paying close enough attention.

Tommy had left home at a young age, to absolutely no one's surprise, and their father had told the others that he was dead to them. But Carolyn had never felt that way. Although she and her brother had lost touch for a significant amount of years after he had left home, Carolyn had always loved her brother. She'd been ecstatic when Cas had visited her in the States and told her that Tommy was getting married. Tommy's little sister didn't give a flying fig that his intended was a man, as long as her brother was happy.

But as she'd hung up the phone at their house in British Columbia in the quiet of the pre-dawn hours, Carolyn had been struck with a sudden and mysterious attack of sentiment. Tommy was dead now, and soon, their father would be, too. Their parents were a lost cause, but what about their brothers? Shouldn't Carolyn try to reconnect with one or all of them? Shouldn't they at least know that their brother Tommy was dead, courtesy of an ignorant, murdering bastard who King James would probably have welcomed with open arms at those same Bible readings?

And what about Peter? Carolyn had raised a precocious, clever young boy that none of their family save for Tommy had ever met. Didn't Peter deserve the opportunity to meet his uncles? Maybe some or all of them were married now, with kids of their own.

Carolyn had made an impulsive decision, then. She had roused an inquisitive Peter from his bed and told her son that they were flying to the States immediately. Peter's grandfather was very, very sick, so they had to hurry. Then she had scribbled a note for Mike and Barry, and left it in the kitchen for them to find in the morning. She was sorry she couldn't say goodbye, but there was no time to lose. She was also sorry that she couldn't invite her boyfriend and her brother-in-law along, but she knew that they would understand why that wasn't a good idea. For all Carolyn knew, their brothers might feel the same way about things as their parents did. If so, that would be all that any one of them would need: Carolyn to come traipsing into the house with Tommy's widower on one arm, and the man that Carolyn was living in sin with on the other. She was very, very sorry that she and Peter wouldn't be able to attend the wedding. Please give everyone their love.

Mike's reverie was interrupted when he spotted Suzanne coming down the aisle. Just as Rob had been accompanied by his mother and father, Suzanne was escorted by Cas and Gail. The Angels had been touched when the young woman had asked them to accompany her. As they were all too aware, she had no family left to stand with her at the wedding. So it had been arranged this way, as a more up-to-date way of doing things. Rob and Suzanne didn't care for the old-fashioned notion of the bride being "given away" to her new husband, and predictably enough, Gail and Jody had enthusiastically agreed with that sentiment.

The subject had come up when the ladies were having their get-together, on the same day the guys had been having Rob's stag party. Jody had remarked that she had always disliked the term "stag-ette", and there was no way in hell they were having a bridal shower. So, even though they had been a more modest-sized group than the last time, Nicole, Linda, Jody, Carolyn, Suzanne and Gail had all gone to an outdoor patio, to have some drinks and enjoy some female bonding time.

The Winchesters were trying not to laugh at the expression on Cas's face. Cas looked even more relieved than the prospective groom that Suzanne was finally walking down the aisle. It never failed to amuse Sam and Dean to see Cas buzzing around like the Wedding Planner from Hell at these events, trying to ensure that everything was perfect. But the brothers had to admit that this was a pretty sentimental moment for them, too. When they'd gotten to the bar and hoisted more than a few to Rob at his stag party, all of the men who had been at the bunker back in the day were reminiscing about little Robbie when he'd been a young boy, running around the place. In a lot of ways, Rob was like the Winchesters' own son, too. A few more drinks and some more male bonding later, the talk had turned bittersweet. The brothers remarked to their friends that neither one of them could ever foresee a wife and kids in their own futures. It didn't matter how often Frank or one of their closer friends had told them to "never say never", the bottom line was that the window on that kind of thing was closing, and closing fast.

Gail was also feeling extremely sentimental as she looked at Rob. Whether she called him her brother or her nephew, because strangely, he was both, she felt like the two of them had always had a special bond. Gail and Cas had gotten to know Suzanne a little better now too, and they couldn't have been happier for the union that was about to take place.

Angela was wiggling excitedly in her seat. Not only was her Mom back, but she was about to gain a sister. And she hadn't even heard about the best part, yet.

But she was about to. Cas started to turn away from Suzanne so that he could take his seat beside Gail, next to Frank. However, the young bride-to-be was feeling so excited about her imminent wedding to the man she loved and their happy news that she grabbed Cas's arm and pulled him to her for a hug.

Cas returned the embrace, but his eyes widened. "Are you OK?" he asked the bride-to-be, pulling gently away from her. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"What do you mean?" she said, puzzled.

Cas was dazed. "It's just...you'll have to make sure you're getting plenty of rest. And we'll have to get you lots and lots of vitamins, and good food to eat, and..."

"Cas, can we save the maternity advice until we get them married, at least?" Bobby said crankily, and then he realized what he'd just said.

The spectators started to murmur amongst themselves. The Angels already knew, of course, but Bobby had just blabbed the news to everyone else.

But there was one more surprise to come.

"Way to go, Gramps," Rob said good-naturedly. Truthfully, he didn't really care. It was the best news he'd ever received, on the happiest day of his life. It was like some chocolate syrup on top of a mound of whipped cream on top of the biggest and best ice cream sundae he could ever have.

Suzanne felt the same way, but the look on her Uncle Cas's face right now was making her extremely nervous. "What's going on?" she asked him. "Why are you looking at me so funny?"

Cas was still staring at her, open-mouthed. He'd felt it as soon as she had hugged him. "You're carrying triplets," he told her.


	7. The Coming Is So Close At Hand

**Chapter 3 - The Coming Is So Close At Hand**

"First Call!" Frank shouted out, as soon as they got to the reception hall.

"What do you mean? Since when do they announce 'First Call'?" Gail said, poking her brother.

"I'm so happy right now, I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're poking me," her brother retorted.

"Aren't we supposed to take the pictures, first?" Suzanne said uncertainly.

"'Supposed to'? You're the bride, and you're carrying one-third of a baseball team," Frank said to his new daughter-in-law. "The only thing you're 'supposed' to do is relax, and enjoy! Tell you what: since you can't drink, we'll let you line up at the buffet first, ahead of me and Dean. How's that?"

"That's a big honour, Suzanne," Sam joked. "Don't take it lightly."

"Oh, I don't," Suzanne shot back. "I've seen Frank and Dean eat."

Rob put his arm around his new wife. "Better do this while I still can," he quipped.

Jody was shaking her head. She still couldn't believe it. In less than two months, the circumstances of her life had changed so dramatically for the better that her head was still reeling. She and Frank were going to be grandparents, to three babies. Three! No one had questioned Cas's certainty that Suzanne was carrying triplets. He'd assured them all that he knew for a fact that she was. Everybody knew how Cas was about stuff like that. He wouldn't have said so if he wasn't absolutely certain.

After some debate back when the wedding was actually being planned, it had ultimately been decided by the bride and groom that the reception would be for family members, only. That way, everyone could feel free to be themselves. If Uncle Gabriel wanted to zap food and drinks around the room, he wouldn't have to worry about being seen by one of their human friends or neighbours. Either that or, if one of the human members of their family got drunk, they wouldn't have to be concerned about someone slipping and blabbing about Angels, the Afterlife, or the Apocalypse.

"You're our daughter-in-law, now. Call us Mom and Dad," Frank told Suzanne in response to her having called him by his first name. "Geez, it's a good thing I'm retired," he went on. "It's gonna take a village. Start reading up on your infant care, Winchester," Frank added, elbowing Dean.

"Too bad Sammy and I are going back on the road," Dean said with a smirk on his face. "I guess you'll have to ask Bobby for a couple of dozen Angels."

"As much as I'm really looking forward to being a Grandpa to three babies, that's not what Angels are for," God said, with a touch of irritation in his voice. "We might have other business to take care of, if Vincent finds that False Prophet, first."

There was silence for a moment, as they all thought about that. Today was a joyous occasion, but they couldn't lose sight of the fact that there would be more serious issues to be dealt with, and soon. What kind of a world would Suzanne be bringing those kids into?

"But, never mind that, right now," Bobby said hastily. "This is a party. Let's get the food out, and get the booze flowing. Angels who wanna partake, line up here, and I'll give you your appetites."

"Let's go help out with the food," Gail said, putting her hand on Cas's arm.

"I'll help out at the bar," Dean offered, but Gail was shaking her head. "Yeah, I don't think so," she said tartly. "That's like putting the kid in charge of the candy store."

"Fine. Then I'll help out with the food, and you and Major Buzzkill can stock the bar," Dean stated, shrugging.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Umm... Kid? Candy store? I don't think so."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. How about the music, then?"

Gail grinned. "Be my guest. But keep in mind whose wedding this is. I highly doubt you're going to find any dinosaur music in that pile of CDs Rob brought over."

"So you don't want me to do anything?" Dean said, flashing Nicole a grin.

"Careful; it's a trap," Dean's girlfriend cautioned her Angel friends.

"Oh, believe me, I'm familiar," Gail told her dryly. "Don't worry, we'll find something for him to do."

She flounced off as Dean stared after her. She'd only been kidding, of course, just to get him going. With God, Gabriel, and her and Cas in the building, not to mention the others, they could have everything done in minutes.

The young couple had wanted the reception to be a fairly low-key event, but there were still a few traditional touches, here and there. Frank had been planning to make a toast to the couple to kick off the proceedings, but as he started to rise, Rob stood instead.

"If you don't mind, Dad, I have something very important I want to say," the groom said to everyone.

Frank sat back down, putting his arm around Jody as their son cleared his throat. Finally, Rob began to speak:

"I just wanted to say something about our family members who aren't here today," Rob said soberly. "Efram, Riley, Chuck, Tommy, Emma, and Liz. My new bride's entire family. And, most of all, my brother, Eric. Everybody in this room has lost someone that we miss, every minute of every day. Can I have a toast to the fallen, please?"

The members of their family, both human and Angel, raised their glasses in a silent tribute. Then, after another minute, Rob cleared his throat again. "And now that I've brought down the whole room, as my Dad would probably say, I want to propose another toast. To the return of my Mom, to my new wife, and to those future kids in her stomach, who are going to be the most spoiled little babies in the universe!"

"I can't argue with that," Frank agreed, lifting his glass high.

Gail was sniffling, and Cas put his arm around her, giving her a squeeze. It had been a very emotional day for all of them.

And it was for Jody and Frank too, for a number of reasons. Most of those were obvious to everyone, but there was one thing that the couple had shared just between the two of them that morning, before the ceremony.

Jody wanted to go Hunting, again. Frank was no longer a desk-riding politician, but in his wife's opinion, that didn't mean they should just sit around the house, either. Frank had thought about that, and the idea appealed to him, too. With Rob and Suzanne getting married and living at home, maybe their parents could work out some kind of arrangement between the two couples to take care of Angela, and then, the babies.

But there was another potential obstacle to Frank's going back to the world of Hunting, though, and this one might be insurmountable. He was getting old, Frank had admitted to his wife. He would never admit it to anyone but her, but his hair had thinned, his waistline had thickened, and he was sore pretty much all the time these days, he'd told her.

Jody had stood there at the dresser in their bedroom, shaking her head at her husband. "Welcome to middle age," she'd said dryly. "But I refuse to use that as an excuse, and neither should you. Think about it, Frank. How long has it been since you and I went out there together, and kicked some monster's ass?"

He had no idea, but it had to have been years. From the moment they'd gotten married, the couple had had little Robbie to take care of. Then Jody had gotten sick, and then they'd had Angela, and then Jody had suffered her fatal illness. It seemed as if the two of them had hardly had any time together as a couple. In other families, that might mean it was time for a second honeymoon, or a month's worth of date nights. But in their family, that meant Hunting together, as a team.

There had been one more aspect to her sales pitch, and that was the part that Jody and Frank had sworn each other to secrecy about. When she had broached the subject, Jody had sensed that her husband might be a bit reluctant to accede to her suggestion. They'd had a lot of long conversations about the fact that Frank had become complacent in the way he was going about his days. If Jody had been here, and healthy, for all those years, she might have fallen into the same pattern. There was a comfort and sense of security inherent in the domestic family lifestyle that was very alluring. But Jody had a new lease on life now, and she meant to take advantage of it. Frank just needed a gentle nudge. Or maybe a not-so-gentle one. Fortunately, Jody had just the tonic for that.

She went into the top dresser drawer and took out the box that she had received from the Pinu as a reward for solving its puzzles. Once Jody'd returned, when she'd had some free time on her hands, she had done some research on the elixir she had in her possession.

"Did you know that 'Bimini' is just another way of saying 'Beimini'?" Jody said casually but somewhat nonsensically, opening the box.

"Did you know that I have no idea what you're talking about, right now?" Frank said with a grin.

Jody took the vial out of the box, examining it closely. The Minotaur had been right when he had said that there was hardly any liquid left. But from what she'd read, one drop should be enough.

"Feel like a little joy juice in your coffee?" she had asked him.

Jody and Frank had savoured their morning coffee, made that much sweeter by the fact that each of their mugs had contained a drop of elixir from the fabled Fountain of Youth. That was why Jody's hair had returned to its rich chestnut brown shade the day of the wedding, and why Frank was acting more like a frat boy than an impending grandfather. Of course, that was before they had received the stunning news that Suzanne was expecting not one, not even two, but three babies. They'd certainly need a lot of energy for that, wouldn't they? But Jody saw no reason that she and Frank couldn't still go on the occasional hunt together. They would have to do a little juggling, to say the least, but she was convinced it could be done. Not only that, but she was convinced that it SHOULD be done.

There had been exactly three drops of the stuff left after that, and two of them now went into the glasses of whiskey that Frank brought his best friends at Rob's wedding reception.

"Let's have a toast, guys," Gail's brother said to Sam and Dean.

"Sure, Gramps," Sam said, grinning. He took a glass from Frank's outstretched hand.

"Are you sure you should be drinking booze?" Dean smirked, accepting the other glass. "Shouldn't you be drinking - " He paused for a moment. "Hey, Bobby! What do old guys drink?"

"I don't know, but you're gonna be drinking a can of Whoop-Ass juice, in a minute," Bobby called across the room. Rob and Kevin laughed, offering him a high-five each.

"I like it when you wind him up," Frank said, nudging Dean. He made sure not to jolt Dean's arm too hard, though. Not until his friend downed his special drink, anyway. Sam, too.

Frank and Jody toasted with the brothers, making sure that both Sam and Dean drained their glasses. The couple had debated whether or not to give the drops of elixir to their kids, of course. But they technically had three kids now, and if they used up all three drops on them, it would be all gone. Jody had an extremely strong gut feeling that they should hold one in reserve. Besides, the next generation had years and years to go, yet. It was the middle-aged members of their family who needed the boost, they had agreed.

But the two of them had also decided that they weren't going to tell anyone about what they had done, not even the Winchesters. All they would need was one or both of the brothers objecting, saying that the dose should go to someone else. Maybe Dean would say that Sam should receive a double dose, or vice versa. In any event, Jody wasn't interested in provoking a lengthy debate on the subject. It was one single, solitary drop they were all imbibing. She wasn't even sure if the stuff would be life-prolonging, or not. Maybe there was more of a placebo effect to the substance than an actual, physiological change.

Whatever the case was, the decision had been made, the deed had been done, and the lone remaining drop of the elixir was currently in the original vial that was nestled in the box, locked up in the lockbox where they kept the gun.

"How's filming going?" Gail asked Nicole. Cas's wife was feeling sad and nostalgic about that whole thing. She had been hoping that their group would have been able to visit the set one last time. Maybe even take part in one of the shows. Nicole had told them back in the summer that Richard had extended an open invitation for Cas and company to return any time, during the final season. But it didn't look too likely, now. As soon as Rob and Suzanne's wedding reception was over later this evening, the higher-ranking Angels were due in Heaven for a brainstorming session. They had a mere month-and-a-half to figure out what they were going to do about Vincent, before the Beast was due to come of age.

"It's going OK, for now," Dean's girlfriend said with a bit of a frown. "But we might not be able to finish out the season."

"What do you mean?" Cas asked her curiously. "Why not?"

"Believe it or not, the writers are getting ready to strike," Nicole told them.

"You've got to be kidding," Gail said in amazement. "It's the final season, and they want to go on strike now?"

"It's not our guys, it's their union," Nicole replied. "But if the union votes to go on strike, they have to go, too. If that happens, the production will shut down until further notice."

Gail thought about that. Hmm. That could actually work in their favour. Maybe, if there was an unscheduled filming hiatus, things might still work out. Assuming they were able to avert the Apocalypse, of course. If not, such issues would cease to matter, wouldn't they?

Just before they all sat down to dinner, Cas appeared, with Eileen on his arm. Sam's face lit up, and he rushed over to where she and Cas stood, giving his girlfriend a hug and a kiss. Then Sam led Eileen by the hand over to Rob and Suzanne, introducing her to the newlywed couple, and then to Frank and Jody.

Everyone ate and drank, Rob and Suzanne cut the cake, and then, there was dancing. The members of the family who'd been there for Frank and Jody's wedding reminisced about that night, and then they all talked about Cas and Gail's first wedding, in Italy.

"I'm glad we have our very own officiant for weddings now, though," Gail remarked, nodding in Bobby's direction.

"You should charge a commission for every one of Cas and Gail's weddings you do, Bobby," Frank chipped in. "You'd make a fortune."

"Ummm...we've had two," his sister said dryly. "That isn't exactly a lot."

"You and Jody should renew your vows," Sam said, signing for Eileen's benefit. Eileen was bemused. Sam had told her about Jody's death, and recent return. The tale had amazed Eileen, but not as much as it probably should have. She'd had a few experiences with eerie events herself, and Sam had shared quite a few stories with her by now about cases that he and Dean had worked. The two of them were obviously a goldmine of information, Eileen had thought. Once the reception party was over, she intended to check with the brothers, to see if she could arrange to receive some training in their areas of expertise. She was already proficient with weapons. But now that the political climate in her country had changed, and definitely for the better, Eileen thought that she would branch out into another area where she felt her skills could be of use.

At the moment, though, the subject was weddings. Dean had been having a laugh at Cas's expense, describing how his friend had been running around all morning, trying to make sure that everything was perfect for the ceremony.

"What's wrong with that?" Cas inquired. "A wedding is an extremely important event."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever. It's important to women, Cas. Women. All the guy has to do is put on his monkey suit, and show up. That's the difference between men and women."

"Oh, really?" Nicole said sarcastically. "So THAT'S the difference between us? Lucky we have you to point it out."

"Sit back; this could be fun," Sam signed to Eileen, and she grinned.

"This isn't gonna be a 'thing', is it?" Dean said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just pointing out that that kind of stuff is way more important to women."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jody piped up. "At the risk of selling out my brother-in-law, Cas was way more into our wedding arrangements than I was."

"Well, look at who you were marrying," Dean wisecracked, earning the one-finger salute from Frank. "I'm not being a sexist," the older Winchester continued insistently. "I'm just saying that men and women are wired differently. So, ipso fatso, women care more about that kind of junk."

Nicole was staring incredulously at her boyfriend. "Are you sure that's the hill you want to die on?" she quipped, and Gail nearly snorted wine out her nose.

"I'm still working on the fact that he said 'ipso fatso'," Frank added, smirking.

"'The hill you want to die on'?" Jody quoted, with a big grin. "That's terrific, Nicole. I'll have to remember that."

"Me, too!" Gail exclaimed.

"Oh, right. For those many, many occasions you and Cas have a fight," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"That's true, you know. You guys make us all look bad," Frank agreed, looking at Cas.

"Oh, so what you're saying is that you want us to argue more often?" Cas said with a smile.

Gail was looking at her husband, and she was smiling, too. "Let's face it, you guys, that's not going to happen," she told them. "We don't have nearly as many things to fight ABOUT. We don't eat, so there's no arguing about who cooks, and who cleans up. Same thing with our laundry, and the housecleaning. I just wave my hands, and a minute later, the house and our clothes are clean. And obviously, we don't have to worry about the age-old 'seat up, seat down' controversy."

The human members of the family nodded. Whether a person was male or female, or even somewhere in-between, they'd all dealt with that particular issue, before.

There was a little more idle chit-chat about a variety of light-hearted topics, and then Cas asked Nicole, "Have you given any thought as to what you'll do, once the show is finished?"

She sighed, taking a sip of her drink. "No, I really haven't. I might see if I can get onto the staff of another local production. Maybe I'll even send my resume out to a couple of movie studios. Everything's so up in the air, right now. Richard's even said that there might be another Supernatural movie in a couple of years, if the guys are interested in doing it. But, at the moment, we'll have to see if we'll even be able to finish out the season. The writers will be voting next week whether or not to go out on strike. If they do, we're on hold, anyway."

Suddenly, Suzanne let go a big yawn. "Sorry, everybody. I have no idea where that came from," she said sheepishly.

"That's those kids, talking," Bobby said good-naturedly, gesturing to her stomach.

"Maybe we should call it a night," Rob said, taking his new wife by the hand.

"Do you want us to come to the house?" Cas inquired.

"Why?" Rob asked the Angel, a puzzled look on his face.

"To take you to your honeymoon," Cas replied, equally puzzled.

"We're not going on a honeymoon, Uncle Cas," Suzanne told him. "With three kids on the way, we decided to save our money, instead."

Frank smiled proudly. "Way to be fiscally responsible, you guys," he said to the newlywed couple.

"Boooo-ring," Gabriel wisecracked, waving another round of drinks onto the long table the family were all sitting at. "OK, fine. You kids go to the Deluxe Honeymoon Suite at The Hilton downtown, and us grown-ups will stay here, and party."

"The Hilton?" Suzanne said, surprised. "But-"

"Please," Gabriel said, by way of a reply. He stood from his chair. "Now, give your Uncle Gabe a hug, and get outta here."

Hugs and kisses were exchanged all around, and then once they were ready to leave, Gabriel waved his hand and the newlyweds were gone.

"Oh, and in case you were going to ask, their suite is fully comped," Gabe added, looking at Cas. "Breakfast, spa treatments, free movies, the works. They can stay as long as they want. I shipped a few suitcases of their stuff over there."

"Geez, I wish you'd sent me and Jody, instead," Frank remarked. "That sounds great."

"I could if you want, but isn't it weird enough having them living in their house, without...?" Gabriel held up his hand. "Never mind. That's none of my business. I guess they're gonna need all the help they can get, with those triplets coming. I just have one more thing to say about that: never, never ask me to change a diaper."

Everyone laughed, and Gabriel grabbed his glass, raising it high. "To the newlyweds," he toasted.

Brother Eli and Mark were sitting in the so-called Prophet's office, discussing the upcoming "revival meeting". That was what Mark had insisted on calling it, even though Elijah didn't care for the term. To him, the expression smacked of charlatan faith healers, and snake oil salesmen. But Mark was unyielding, and ever since the Gospel writer had arrived at the commune, his instructions had helped to increase Eli's flock tenfold, to use the vernacular. And Mark had promised that, by the end of this particular sermon, Eli would have to further expand the grounds of the commune.

This far, the self-proclaimed Gospel writer had delivered on every grand prediction that he had made. Elijah's sermons had become increasingly more ominous and dramatic as the days passed, and Mark's hyperbolic writings grew. But, it was strange: the more dire the predictions became, the more followers Eli obtained. The worse the state of the world was, the more dependent and afraid the people became. And, the more afraid they became, the more they began to search for a strong paternal figure, someone who would tell them what to do. Mark spoke from personal experience. What did Eli suppose that God's relationship with His children had been, for all of those years? Organized religions made a fortune erecting fancy buildings and taking up collections so that they could trot out men in robes, asking supplicants to kneel and confess their sins. Imaginary, or otherwise.

Tomorrow night's sermon was going to change everything, Mark assured Elijah now. For the first time, the Prophet was going to come out on stage wearing the brightest gold and white robes, and he was going to tell the audience that from this moment forth, he was to be called "Father Eli". Not "Brother"; "Father". He was going to read to them the Word, the true Gospel of the Lord. And the name of the sermon he was about to deliver was:

Gabriel froze, mid-toast. "The Coming Is So Close At Hand," he blurted out.

Gail looked at him. "What?"

"The False Prophet," Gabe replied. "Elijah."


	8. October Sky

**Chapter 4 - October Sky**

The brainstorming session had been going on for the better part of an hour now, but they were no further ahead than they'd been when they had first sat down at the boardroom table.

"We've studied every book in the library, including the ones in the archives," Kevin said. "The oldest ones refer to 'the Dragon', as being the head of the Unholy Triad. That'll be Vincent. The Beast is Damien. The False Prophet is the third member of the Triad. Gabriel tells us his name is Father Eli, aka Elijah, aka Elias."

"But he can't be Elijah," Castiel argued. "Elijah died, in Sparta. I saw him perish, myself."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Not ELIJAH, Elijah. This guy is just... a guy. He calls himself Father Eli, but he doesn't have any chops. That's why he's got a self-professed Gospel writer doing his speechwriting."

"A self-professed..." Cas trailed off. Oh, no. No, no. "Are you talking about Mark?" he asked his Brother incredulously.

"Do you know of another plagiarist writer of the Gospels?" Gabe replied sarcastically. "The other three might have been duplicitous bastards, but at least they wrote their own material."

Gail was open-mouthed. Suddenly, Mark was involved? "What about Xavier?" she said sharply. "Is he with them?"

Gabe shrugged. He knew what she was getting at. Xavier and Mark had been accompanying Lanister when he had murdered Liz, and even though Lanister was now dead, the other two were still at large. "He's not with them," the Archangel answered her, frowning. "Not that I saw, anyway."

"What did you see, exactly?" Bobby asked him irritably. "And how come we've been trying to get a line on this False Prophet guy for months, and suddenly, he's in your head?"

"Beats me," Gabe said casually, but he was bothered by that, too. As an Archangel, he should have been able to get a bead on Mark, ages ago. Truthfully, Gabriel felt like his mind had been muddled for quite a while now, and he had no idea how or why that should be.

Cas was looking curiously at his Brother, as if he could tell what Gabriel was thinking. "Do you know where they are?" he inquired.

Gabriel gave him a withering look. "Don't you think I would have told you so, if I did? Why would we be sitting around here like a bunch of Upper Echelon idiots, talking around a boardroom table, if I knew their location?"

Gail glared at their Brother. "Now, I know you didn't mean that," she said coolly. Then she looked at Cas, and then back at Gabriel.

Oh. Right. Cas had once been one of the Upper Echelon, hadn't he? Gabe thought. That seemed like it had been so long ago, now. Still, Gabriel wasn't sure he was prepared to apologize, because it was a true statement: the Upper Echelon had been a bunch of bureaucratic, bumbling, blathering idiots, in his opinion. Whether Gabe included Castiel in their number, or not.

Gail opened her mouth, getting ready to reprimand Gabriel further for his insensitive remark, but Cas spoke first: "Bobby, can you summon Daniel to the boardroom, please?"

"Daniel?" Bobby said blankly.

"Yes," Cas replied, nodding. "My Brother's tactless remark gave me an idea." Gail smiled. She couldn't have zinged Gabe better, herself. Cas continued: "I think we need to talk to the author of the eschatological prophecies."

"The what?" Bobby said, with more than a touch of irritation in his voice. Gail's forehead wrinkled. She was with Bobby, although a part of her felt almost as if she should know what Cas was referring to.

"And, just so ya know, if you answer my question by just repeating what you just said, I'm not above punching you in the face," Bobby added, giving Cas a dark look.

Kevin snickered, then pretended to cough, to cover it up. He didn't want to piss Cas off, or Gail, either. But the young Angel had found that remark of Bobby's funny, because that was exactly what Cas did. If whoever Cas was talking to indicated that they didn't understand a reference he had made, Cas would simply repeat what he had originally said, as if saying it a second time would make it clear.

"Eschatology," Cas began to say, but fortunately for him, he went on, "is the part of theology which is concerned with the science of last things. Or, to put it another way, the ultimate destiny of humanity. I don't know why I didn't think of this, before. Daniel's writings were based on Christian eschatology. Vincent is planning an apocalyptic event; therefore, my former Upper Echelon colleague may be able to provide us with some insight on the subject."

Gail's mouth dropped open. "Upper Echelon?" she repeated. "Daniel? Is that the Daniel who sat there?" She gestured to the empty seat beside Kevin, with a look of distaste. And with good reason. Daniel had been one of the board members who had voted to execute Cas, at the conclusion of the tribunal. It was true that both Daniel and Gregory had expressed remorse immediately afterwards, but Gail would never quite be able to forgive any of those board members for what they had done, and she would certainly never forget.

It was unclear to her how Cas was feeling about the issue, at the moment. Presumably, he was putting whatever personal feelings he had aside, for the greater good. Gail would try to emulate her husband, but she wasn't making any promises.

Bobby sent out the call for Daniel to come to the boardroom, and a minute or so later, the former Upper Echelon Angel tapped lightly on the door. He came into the room upon hearing Bobby's reply to enter.

Daniel was a little taken aback to see Castiel and Gail there, but then he realized that he really shouldn't have been. Heaven's rumour mill was very active, as it always had been, and so he had known that the latest threat to the planet Earth consisted of the Unholy Triumvirate. Details were scarce, but Daniel wasn't unintelligent. He had wondered if his prophecies would come into play, at some point.

Cas was regarding the newcomer calmly as Daniel sat down at the boardroom table. He had taken his former seat beside Kevin out of automatic reflex, and Gail's expression darkened. If Daniel noticed, he gave no indication.

Castiel continued to gaze at the Angel who had been the original writer of the Book of Daniel. How odd it was to be sitting across the boardroom table from him, once more. He wondered if Daniel ever thought about those times. Actually, Cas seldom did, any more. Circumstances had changed so drastically from when Cas had been the pariah he used to be, in this room. The misfit. His self-confidence and self-worth had increased exponentially since meeting the Winchesters, and especially, since meeting Gail. It was a good feeling to know that he was finally and truly able to let go of the old resentments and insecurities.

Gabriel was giving Daniel the side-eye. The Archangel was none too happy about the way he felt Daniel had portrayed him in the Bible. It was lucky for Daniel that Gabriel hadn't been here at the time of the tribunal, when they had voted to put Cas to death. Gabe would have cleaned house before they'd even called their first witness.

"Does the Divine Book even exist, or did you make it up?" Gabriel asked Daniel, with an edge to his voice.

Daniel was startled. Gabriel knew?

"Look, you guys," Bobby said sternly. "I know you fellas all date back to the Old Testament, but I'm the one who's in the High Office. Me. Not any of you. If you're gonna be talking about these things, you'll have to fill me in on what the hell they are."

"The Divine Book is where those who are to be resurrected are named," Daniel said expressionlessly.

Bobby let out a frustrated breath. "Assuming I even know what that means, why did you ask him about that?" Bobby said, turning his attention to Gabriel.

"Oh, I don't know. I just figured that anybody who had the kind of vivid imagination it would take to make ME the bad guy would also be able to dream up an imaginary 'Get Out Of Hell Free' card," Gabriel remarked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

Now it was Gail who let out a frustrated breath. "I'm with Bobby," she said irritably. "What are you talking about?"

Cas was looking back and forth from Gabriel to Daniel, and Gail's husband's eyes were narrowed. "The Divine Book is said to contain the names of the souls to be raised above all others, following the End of Days," Cas said quietly. "Matthew used to tell me that he believed the book was fictitious. Is that true, Daniel?"

"Matthew?!" Gabriel exclaimed. "Why would you mention HIM, all of a sudden?"

Gail was extremely confused, now. It was kind of like tuning in to a movie that had already been on for an hour, and trying to follow the plot.

Bobby was fed up. "Look, I don't have the time, or the patience, to put up with all this Biblical bickering," he said angrily. "Bottom line it for me, Cas."

Cas sighed. "Daniel's Book of the Bible makes reference to the Archangel Gabriel as having appeared to him in a vision, telling him that there was a Book written in God's own hand, listing the souls who were to be spared. Daniel said the Archangel referred to it as the 'Divine Book'."

"Yeah; except that never happened, did it, Danny Boy?" Gabriel said, arching his eyebrow.

"Well...all right, not exactly," Daniel said uncomfortably.

"Right," Gabe said, gesturing in frustration.

"So you made it up?" Bobby asked the former Upper Echelon Angel, with an incredulous expression.

"You don't understand what things were like, back then," Daniel said to all of them. "There was a lot of pressure put on us to convey the proper tone in our writings. The Bible was meant to be a compendium of prophecies, an almanac of past experiences and future ones, and a guideline for the way that Father wanted His creations to behave. When I was tasked with writing a chapter, I hadn't had any personal revelations to draw upon. So I embellished a vision I'd had, and that was the version that was published."

"So, you're a liar," Bobby said bluntly. "Is that what you're telling us?"

"No, my Lord," Daniel said, agitated. "I had a vision of an Archangel who appeared unto me and said, 'Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame, and everlasting contempt'. So, that is what I wrote."

"Fine. But why'd you say it was me?" Gabriel persisted.

"Because yours was the most Exalted name I could think of," Daniel responded in a hushed tone.

Gabriel's lips twitched, despite himself. The guy might be a prevaricator, but he sure knew how to suck up when he had to. Still...

"So, who WAS it?" Bobby said impatiently.

"I don't know," Daniel said quickly. "He said he was an Archangel, but he didn't tell me his name. I did embellish the account as far as the Divine Book was concerned, but the vision was genuine, and so was the prophecy. The Archangel said that the dead would rise, and the Judgement would begin. What once was, would be no more, and what was foretold would come to pass. The end would be the beginning, and the beginning would be the end of everything."

Bobby sat back in his chair, regarding the Angel with a dour expression. "Why is it that all you Biblical types talk in riddles?" he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Cas's lips were pressed tightly together. It was obvious, wasn't it? "That's the apocalyptic event," he remarked grimly. "Vincent is going to raise the dead, and then the Final Judgement will begin. Unless we can find a way to stop him, he's going to bring about the end of Creation."

Gail looked at him, astonished. "Are you kidding me with this?!" she exclaimed.

"Do I look as if I'm joking?" Cas replied sharply.

Gail took a deep breath, counting to ten. She didn't really want to be mad at Cas right now. It was bad enough that everybody in this room seemed to be mad at everybody else. Bobby looked like he was considering who to smite first, Kevin was avoiding eye contact, Cas had That Look on his face, and Gabriel...

"What's the matter with you?" she asked the Archangel. "You don't look so well."

The truth was, Gabriel was feeling very strange. The longer he looked at Daniel, the worse he felt. What WAS it about the guy? He had no idea. And why had Gabriel just about jumped out of his skin when Cas had mentioned Matthew's name? Gabe was trying to focus on the subject at hand, but his mind kept wandering. He was supposed to be looking for the third member of the Magi, not sitting around a table like a corporate stooge, listening to some lying sack of -

"Is that it? Just some vague, so-called 'vision', that sounds like it came out of a second-rate zombie movie?" Bobby blurted out.

Daniel looked puzzled. He would be, of course, Cas thought. One of the Upper Echelon Angels would have no frame of reference for that type of remark. But Cas shared Bobby's frustration now. Daniel's visit had been interesting enough, but they were no further ahead in the investigation than they had been a few minutes ago; not really.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but I can provide no further information," Daniel said, adopting a formal tone to cover his confusion. The reigning occupant of the High Office frequently spoke of things which were a puzzlement to the longer-serving Angels. But Daniel had promised himself after the tragedy that had been the tribunal that he would no longer judge Angels for consorting with humans, and he had kept his word. Still, he wanted nothing to do with this administration, or their violent ways.

"Dismissed," Bobby said to Daniel, waving his hand. The former Upper Echelon member practically jumped out of his seat in his eagerness to exit the boardroom.

Gail's eyes followed Daniel out of the room, and then she looked at Bobby. "Can I ask you something?" she said to him. "Whatever happened to the plan to summon Abbadon, and question her?"

Bobby glanced at Kevin, who hadn't said a word since Daniel had shown up. Bobby knew that the young Angel was still sensitive when it came to any discussion involving Crowley, even after all these years. And besides, Cas would probably chirp about security clearances if Kevin stayed in the room.

"Can you excuse us, Kevin?" Bobby said to the young Prophet. "We'll call you if we need you again."

Kevin sighed. He gathered up his papers, rising slowly from his chair. "I'm sorry," he said in a subdued voice. For all the hours and all the effort he and his staff had put in, he'd been able to come up with exactly zero, in terms of usable information.

"Not your fault, son," Bobby remarked. "We all know you've been working your buns off. Thanks for the effort."

Kevin's expression relaxed. Bobby was a terrific God, in his opinion. He was strict when he had to be, but he always remembered that people had feelings, too. Kevin respected Cas and he liked him, too, but sometimes Cas tended to forget that fact, when he was focusing on a mission.

And Cas was focusing now. The instant Kevin left the boardroom, Gail's husband turned to Bobby. "Why has Crowley not honoured his agreement?" Cas asked Bobby.

"You realize you're talking about the King of Hell and honour in the same sentence, right?" Bobby said dryly.

"What did he say when you talked to him?" Gail added persistently.

"He said she was shielded to him," Bobby replied, frowning. "Something about her being part Angel. Blah, blah, yada, yada. The usual Crowley song and dance."

"That might not be a song and dance," Gabriel piped up. His attention had returned to the matter at hand. A cynic might have said it was because they were now talking about an alluring woman, and they might have been right. But part of Gabriel was also fascinated by the concept. A child who had been conceived by a human woman who had been possessed by a Demon at the time? An Angel for a father, one who'd had a high enough standing to have sired the Angel of the Abyss? Abbadon had been destined to be the keeper of the Lake of Fire, and instead, Crowley had that pompous jerkwad Alexander running the show. Was Crowley that much of a sexist? Or was he afraid of what Abbadon might do to him and his Kingdom if she got her clutches on that many souls?

"Wait a minute. I take that back," Gabriel amended. "I think he's lying to us, and I think I know why."

He explained his train of thought to the others, and Cas was nodding vigorously. "Of course. That's got to be it! Crowley doesn't want her to take over the Lake of Fire. He wants her right where she is: on Earth."

"Great. Another dead end. Just what we needed," Gail lamented. "You have no idea how much I wish we could just kill Vincent, and be done with it." She was fuming now, and feeling more than just a little guilty. Why? She wasn't sure. Yes, Vincent was her father, but that wasn't her fault, was it? She would pretty much rather have anybody else as a father. Anybody. She could go to the zoo, pop into a cage, and grab a boa constrictor, or the world's stupidest, ugliest rhinoceros, and it would be a better father to her than Vincent had ever been.

Cas looked at his wife with sympathy in his eyes. He regretted having snapped at her a minute ago. He had been frustrated with their lack of progress, and preoccupied with the discourse between Daniel and Gabriel. Castiel had known about Daniel's writings and about his former Upper Echelon colleague having reported a visit from Gabriel. What Cas hadn't known was that the account had been a lie, or at best, a misdirection. And to add to Cas's distractions, Gabriel was acting very strange. Why had he become so agitated when Cas had mentioned Matthew's name?

None of these things were Gail's fault, though. Cas could tell by the look on his wife's face that she was as upset as he was by the situation. Even more so, because Vincent was her father. Cas knew his wife very well. He took her hand, gave it a brief squeeze, and then released it. She flashed him a grateful look.

"So, where do we go from here?" Bobby said. But it was more or less a rhetorical question, because none of them had any idea.

Cas frowned. "I'll tell you where I'm going to go," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to summon the King of Hell, and he is going to tell me where she is. One way, or the other."

Bobby was looking at him with a thoughtful expression. On the one hand, God was well aware of the imminent deadline. Damien, the youth who Bobby had once thought of as his grandson, was due to come of age in November. They had just over a month to put the kibosh on Vincent and his Zombie Apocalypse, and Bobby had jack squat.

Then again, on the other hand, every time Cas and his brother met in person and were at loggerheads with each other, which was the vast majority of the time, threats of bodily harm abounded. Bobby had little doubt that one day, either Cas or Crowley or both were going to snap, and do something that neither of them could take back. Then, shouldn't Bobby instead be making a concerted effort to keep them apart? Or was the situation too damn important to worry about the universe's oldest sibling rivalry, potentially deadly though it might be?

Bobby was mulling over his options when Cas's cell phone rang. Cas ignored it, but it rang twice more, and Bobby's facial expression was forming into a scowl.

"I'll tell whoever it is that I'm busy," Cas said hastily, holding one of his hands up while fishing into his pocket with the other.

As Bobby let out an exasperated breath, Cas checked the Display on his phone. Barry. Hmm. He pushed the button.

"Barry? It's Cas," Gail's husband said into the phone. Gail's lips twitched. Of course it was; who else would it be? "I'll have to call you back."

"NO!" Barry shouted. "Please! It's an emergency!"

Cas looked at Bobby uncertainly. "He says it's an emergency."

Bobby sighed. "Go ahead and take it, Cas. I have no idea what I was gonna say, anyway."

"What's the matter, Barry?" Cas asked their Canadian friend.

And then Barry told the Angel something that was going to change everything.

Rob and Suzanne's wedding reception had gone on longer for some of their family members than for others. The bride and groom left fairly early due to Suzanne's condition, most of the Angels had gone back to Heaven, and Barry, Mike and Ilene had grabbed an "Angel Uber" back to Canada.

All three of them had gone to bed early, so Mike was up early the next day. He put on a pot of coffee and as he stood there, debating whether or not he should call Carolyn's cell at such an hour, she saved him the trouble of deciding.

Barry's laptop made a warbling sound, signifying that a Skype call was coming in. Mike rushed over to the table and opened up the computer.

"I'm glad you called," Mike said to his lady friend, taking a seat at the table. "Can you see me OK?"

"Oh, yes. I see you, all right," she said in response. Mike's brow wrinkled. Okie-dokie. That had been a strange way to put it.

"How's your father?" he asked Carolyn. Maybe that was why she looked so pale.

"Dead," she said bluntly. "Peter and I are with my brother, now. And, Mike? We're not coming back."

Her boyfriend's jaw dropped. "What?" What did she mean by that? Was she trying to make a joke, of some kind? Because if she was, he didn't get it.

"You heard me," Carolyn said calmly. "We're not going to come back, Mike. I'm going to raise Peter right, in a proper environment. We're on the righteous path, now. My brother helped me to see that."

Mike's mouth opened even further. "The righteous path?" he echoed. "What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," she replied in the same even tone. "There's nothing wrong with Peter, either. It's my fault that my son has been raised in a sinful household. First Corinthians, 15:33, says 'bad company corrupts good character'. You and I were living in Sin, Mike. Read First John, 4:1. The Book of Elijah teaches us that we are all sinners. Read it, Mike. It'll explain everything."

Mike's eyes were narrowed. He disagreed with Carolyn: there was definitely something wrong, here. She was spouting the same religious rhetoric she'd told Mike she had grown up with. The same nonsense that she and Tommy used to make fun of. There was nothing wrong with having standards and moral guidelines, but Mike knew that their father had taken it a lot further than that. But now, Carolyn was telling Mike that the old man was dead, and she was sounding an awful lot like him. This whole thing stunk to high Heaven.

"Write those verses down, study your Bible, and pray," Carolyn went on. "You will receive enlightenment. Goodbye, Michael."

The computer screen went dark, and Mike found himself gaping at his own reflection. "'Michael'?" he said out loud, dazed. She had never called him that. Never. What in the holy hell was going on, here?

Carolyn's hand was shaking as she shut down the computer in her brother's office. He had left her alone so she could have some privacy for her call, but she had no way of knowing if he had some kind of a monitoring system in the room. It wouldn't surprise her to find out that he did; not one bit.

Hopefully, Mike would be able to figure out that something was very, very wrong, here. Carolyn had left him as many clues as she'd dared. She had spoken to him in a very different way than she normally would have, and she had left a couple of clues by referring to those Bible passages. She'd even told Mike that she and Peter were with her brother, although she'd been expressly forbidden to mention Eli's name, or to say anything about their being in Ontario, Canada.

Carolyn had tried to give Mike her brother's name anyway, by giving him that one Bible reference. Would he pick up on that? Would he even look up the verses? Or would he just assume that Carolyn had "drunk the Kool-Aid", as the expression went, and wash his hands of her?

That thought she'd had of drinking the Kool-Aid was scarily apt, in this instance. Carolyn and Peter were being held hostage at Brother Eli's commune. No; actually, it was "Father Eli" now, she corrected herself. That was what all of his devoted followers were required to call him.

Carolyn and Peter had flown to Illinois on the red-eye the night before Rob and Suzanne's wedding, taking a taxi to their family home. When her father had found out how dire his prognosis was, James had signed himself out at the hospital and gone home, saying that he wanted to die in his own bed.

Carolyn's father had gotten his wish. In fact, James had passed away about half an hour before his daughter and grandson got there. Her mother was still sitting a vigil at her husband's bedside, Carolyn's brother Eli had told her, and Kathleen had left instructions for no one to disturb her.

Eli had stared dispassionately at his sister and her pre-adolescent son. He had been keeping tabs on all of his family members this whole time, mainly out of curiosity. But now, he was glad that he had. Elijah knew that his sister was living with a man who she was not married to, and the two of them were cohabiting with his and Carolyn's deceased brother Tommy's homosexual lover. Eli couldn't bring himself to call Barry Tommy's husband. As a brother, Eli had mixed feelings when he had learned of Tommy's murder. Eli and Tommy had been the two brothers closest in age, and the boys had been nearly inseparable when they were young. But Tommy had taken the wrong path, in Eli's view, and he had no one to blame but himself for the tragic way his life had ended.

And now here was their younger sister Carolyn and her son, who had at least been conceived in wedlock. Carolyn had supported Tommy and that man in their aberrant lifestyle, and she was raising her son, Elijah's nephew, to believe that it was acceptable. Wasn't it his responsibility to make sure that didn't happen? No sister and nephew of the Prophet of the New Order were going to live in a house of depravity.

Eli had ushered mother and son into the kitchen, and put on the kettle. "I'll be back in a minute, and we'll talk some more," he'd told them. Then he had left the room.

Carolyn sat down wearily. "Where's everybody else, Mom?" Peter asked her. "Where are my other uncles?"

His mother had been wondering that same thing. Had "King James" alienated her other siblings so badly that none of them had even bothered to come? Carolyn was having a bit of a struggle herself, right now. She had woken her son up in the middle of the night and flown them here to... what? What exactly had been the point? Had she thought that her father was going to welcome them with open arms? Shed a few tears with her over Tommy's untimely and unfair passing? Tell her he'd save her a seat at the family table in Heaven? Well, as it turned out, Carolyn now knew a lot more about Heaven than her father ever had. Despite being able to quote chapter and verse from the Bible, King James had had no clue what real love and kindness were supposed to be all about. Carolyn was one hundred percent certain that she and Tommy would be sitting together in Heaven in the future, but she highly doubted they would be getting a visit from their father there.

Eli was of the same opinion, although for a different reason. Although their father had shaped his son's current psyche through Bible study and corporal punishment, Eli felt no love for the old man. None whatsoever. Respect? Yes. Fear? Definitely. But he was glad their father was dead. Little sister Carolyn had no idea. "Spare the rod, and spoil the child" had applied to the male children in their family, only. James had been particularly hard on Eli, although his brothers might all disagree with that notion. When Eli had cried and asked his father why he was hitting him, James had told his son that it was because he loved him. Huh. Well, in that case, Eli had been the most loved little kid in his entire neighbourhood. But Elijah had never strayed from his religious ideals, not once. Maybe James should have punished Tommy and Carolyn a little more, when they had still been at the house. Maybe then, they would have turned out to be decent human beings, instead of Godless trash.

But there was still hope. Peter represented the future generation of their family, and the boy was young enough that his soul could still be saved. Carolyn might be able to achieve redemption as well, but if she was a lost cause, Father Eli's sister could still have her uses. Once the End of Days began, Father Eli's numbers would go through the roof, he was sure. It would be good to have someone he could make use of by his side when Vincent and his group arrived.

Once Eli was out of Carolyn's earshot, he pulled out his cell phone and called Mark. "I need you to come to my parents' house, immediately," he told the Gospel writer.

Mike had sat there at the kitchen table for a few moments after Carolyn's Skype call had ended, wondering what the hell THAT had been. Since when did she spout Bible verses, and talk about "Sin"? There was something really weird going on, here. She'd called him "Michael", for God's sake. There was no way. They used to joke about that, back when their relationship had been new. Mike had tried to call his girlfriend "Carol", and he'd told her to call him Mike, because that was what everybody called him. "Michael" was the name his mother had used for him, when he had been in trouble. Carolyn had laughed, saying she didn't want them to be "Carol" and "Mike" because she didn't plan on being the Brady Bunch, and that she would only call him "Michael" if there was a problem.

And that had been good enough for him. Carolyn was trying to send Mike a message that there was some kind of trouble. He got up from his chair and rushed over to the nook where Barry kept some notepads and pens. He'd better get those Bible references written down, before he forgot what they were.

Mike had just finished jotting down his notes when Barry came into the kitchen, stretching and yawning. Mike noticed with a pang that Barry was wearing Tommy's robe.

"Do I smell coffee?" Barry said, shuffling over to the counter where the coffeemaker was. Mike just stared at him. He'd completely forgotten he'd put a pot on.

"Did Tommy ever talk to you about his and Carolyn's siblings?" Mike blurted out.

Barry's hand froze in the act of opening the cupboard door where the coffee mugs were kept. "Why do you ask?" he said curiously.

"Humour me," Mike countered with.

Barry sighed. "Tommy didn't talk about their family very much. I assume, by your question, that Carolyn is the same way." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "What he did say, mainly when he'd had a bit too much to drink, was pretty chilling, Mike. Put it this way: Tommy's killer's parents would be considered moderates, compared to Tom-Tom and Carolyn's father. There's a reason why both of them left home at a fairly young age."

"What do you know about their brothers?" Mike persisted.

"Not much," Barry admitted. He took the mugs out and poured coffee into them. "There's Eli, who'd be two years older than Tommy. There's David, the eldest, and Roman, the youngest. He's a couple of years younger than Carolyn. Why are you asking me about all this, Mike?"

Carolyn's boyfriend told Barry about her Skype call, and Barry's forehead wrinkled. "Did she say which brother she was with, or where she was?" he asked Mike.

"No, but she called me 'Michael', and she told me to read these Bible verses," Mike replied, showing Barry the pad of paper.

"We should call Cas," Barry said, frowning. "I don't like the sound of this."

Bobby had initially been annoyed when Cas's cell phone rang in the middle of their meeting, but when Cas explained the purpose of Barry's call, Bobby's expression relaxed a little. He was well aware that they were in a time crunch when it came to Vincent and his Axis of Evil, but it sounded like Carolyn and young Peter might be in some trouble. Besides, Bobby had nothing, at the moment. No idea how to proceed. He seriously doubted that Crowley was going to give them anything he didn't want to give.

So Bobby had given Cas and Gail the green light to pop down to their friends' house in British Columbia, to find out what was going on. The Angels were sitting at the kitchen table, and Cas was leafing through the copy of the Bible that Mike had given him, obtained from the bookshelf in the living room.

"You said that she referred to First Corinthians, 5:33," Cas remarked thoughtfully. "Yes: here it is. 'Bad company corrupts good character'." He turned the book over to look at the cover. "The verbiage is simplistic, but the quote is correct."

"That doesn't sound like her," Mike said earnestly. "Since when does she believe that?"

Cas held his tongue. He could have said that he generally agreed with the statement, but Mike was right, as far as Carolyn was concerned. They had known Tommy's sister for quite a while now, and she was definitely not on board with the fundamentalist ideology that she and Tommy had been taught as children.

It was strange, but so far, Cas hadn't heard anything that might be construed as a signal that she was in any danger. "What was the reference she gave you that she said would explain everything?"

Mike looked at the notepad again. "First John, 4:1," he replied.

Cas frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, Cas," Mike said.

"Then I must be remembering it wrong," Cas mused. He flipped to that section, scrutinizing the verse. "No; I had it right. But didn't you say that she said it would explain everything?"

Mike let out a shaky breath. He was a little more used to Cas now, but he wished their Angel friend would cut to the chase. "Yeah, Cas," he said again. "That's what she said."

"This explains nothing," Cas said, puzzled. "'Dear friend, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false Prophets have gone out into the world'," he quoted. "I don't know what this would have to do with anything."

Gail was starting to get frustrated, too. "Okay, what was the third thing she said, then?" Cas's wife said irritably.

"It wasn't a specific verse," Mike answered, "it was a Book of the Bible. She said the Book of Elijah teaches us that we are all sinners."

Cas looked at him sharply. "The Book of Elijah? That's impossible. There is no such thing. Not in the Christian Bible, anyway."

"Elijah?" Barry interjected. He and Gail had been sitting quietly for the most part, listening to the mens' exchange. "Her brother, the one who was closest to Tommy's age, is named Eli. She must have been telling us she's with him!"

"Why wouldn't she just have told you guys so, then?" Gail asked the men. This was confusing. "Why all this spy stuff?"

"I think that might be my fault," Barry said in a quiet voice. It was such an unusual tone that they all turned their heads to look at him. After a moment, Barry let out a breath and then continued: "Tommy told me that his father used to beat up on all his sons, when they were kids. And he meant: beating them up. Not just a light tap on the bum, or even a smack on the hand. He would bludgeon them with the Bible, kick them down the stairs if they weren't dressed in time for church, and punch them, if they gave him any back-talk."

"Sounds like a real piece of work," Mike commented with a frown.

"No kidding," Barry agreed, in that same quiet tone. "Tom-Tom used to tell me that his brother Eli received the worst beatings, but that Eli was also the most fanatically devoted to their father's teachings."

"Maybe I've watched too many movies, but it sounds like Eli might have some issues, to say the least," Gail said.

"I'm afraid that might be an understatement," Barry said grimly. "Shortly before he was killed, Tommy said that, of all his brothers, he worried about Eli the most. He said he thought that Eli had the potential to turn into a Roch Theriault, if he stayed at that house much longer. Tommy was trying to convince Eli to move out; to get out from under their father's thumb before it was too late."

"What's a Rock...what did you say?" Cas asked their friend, his forehead wrinkling.

Mike was pale. "I guess you guys wouldn't know, since you spend most of your time in the States, when you're on Earth. He was the Canadian equivalent of Jim Jones, or David Koresh. Roch Theriault was the leader of a cult in...was it Quebec?" he asked Barry.

"I think so," Barry replied. "Anyway, the point is, if Carolyn's with Eli, and she's spouting all this religious rhetoric, I'm afraid that she and Peter might not be with him willingly."

"Do you have any idea where Eli is now?" Cas asked the men.

"No," Barry said, looking at Mike for confirmation. "Tommy and Carolyn distanced themselves from the rest of their family for a reason. Actually, I was surprised when she left us that note saying she'd taken Peter to Illinois."

"Illinois?" Cas perked up. "Do you have an address for the family home? We should go there."

"Carolyn has an address book in the drawer of her nightstand," Mike said. "I'll go get it."

"I'll come with you," Cas said, rising from his chair. "I have a few more questions about Tommy and Carolyn's family."

Mike shrugged. "I don't know much, but I'll tell you what I can."

The men left the room. Gail put her hand on top of Barry's. He'd been fidgeting with his coffee spoon, avoiding her gaze.

"Why did you say this was your fault?" she asked him in a gentle tone. Gail could tell her friend was very upset. It was understandable. She knew that Carolyn was like Barry's own sister now, too.

"Because of my relationship with Tommy, of course," Barry said glumly. "When he told his parents that he was gay, his father tried to beat the homosexuality out of him." His tone changed. Now, it was sarcastic. "Because we all know that's how it works, right? Tommy told me he faced his father, took his abuse, and stood his ground. But then, when his father swung the Bible at my Tommy's head, Tommy grabbed it from him and threw it back in his face. He told his parents that they might as well burn it, for all the good it was doing them, and their kids. Then he walked out of the house, and he never went back."

"That's excellent!" Gail told her friend with a smile. "I don't care if it's blasphemy or not, that's the best thing I've heard in a long time."

Barry smiled back, but it was a sad smile. "I was so proud of Tommy when he told me that. But I also felt sorry for him, too. I never realized how hard it was for him and Carolyn, growing up in that household. And then, when Tommy stood up to his father like he did..." Barry's throat closed up, and tears came to his eyes. Gail took his hand in hers, and he gave her hand a squeeze.

"Are you flirting with my wife?" Cas said in a lighthearted tone. He and Mike had just re-entered the kitchen. Cas had the address in Georgetown, Illinois memorized. Mike hadn't had any other useful information, but at least that was a place to start. Cas had noticed that Barry was on the verge of crying, so he had made the humorous remark to cheer their friend.

And it had worked; at least partially, anyway. Barry's lips twitched. "Well, you keep turning me down, Cas, so I decided to try the B-Team."

Mike high-fived Barry on his way to the coffee machine, but Gail put her hands on her hips. "Hey!" she objected. "Who are you calling the B-Team?"

"It stands for 'Beautiful', I'm sure," Cas said, kissing his wife on her forehead.

"Right," Barry said quickly, trying not to grin. "That's what it stands for."

Gail stood, taking Cas's hand. She pointed at her friend with her free hand. "You're lucky we have an investigation to do, or this discussion wouldn't be over."

"Seriously, though; thanks a lot, you two," Barry said to their Angel friends. "I know you've got other things you need to do. But Mike and I are worried about Carolyn and Peter. They need your help."

"Then they'll have it," Cas said, tight-lipped. He and Gail disappeared from the kitchen.

"Mom, why do we have to do this?" Peter was whining.

Carolyn looked at her son. He'd been using a hoe to dig furrows in the field, along with the other kids in their group, and she'd felt like smiling, at first. She hadn't realized what a spoiled suburban child her son really was until she'd seen him trying to wield a gardening tool. When they got out of here, she was going to ask Mike to take Peter to the garage and have her son handle some tools, get some grease under his fingernails.

But for now, anyway, they had to go along to get along. Carolyn glanced nervously at the "Deacons", who were stationed at various vantage points around the perimeter of the field. They were walking casually back and forth, joking around with the people nearest to them. It all looked very civilized. Whenever the members who were harvesting the crops needed a drink of water or a washroom break, all they had to do was tell one of the Deacons, and they would get whatever they needed. To all outward appearances, it looked like a happy family, harvesting fresh food for the dinner tables at their commune. They even sang songs, or played word games, to pass the time.

A happy family. Right. Angel Paul and his real family would be able to recognize the kind of setup Father Eli had going on, here. Their ancestors had been those workers, and the "Deacons" in those days had been called Overseers.

There was one more similarity, too. Whether they were called deacons or overseers, or whatever, the people supervising the fields were armed, and they had been given the green light to subdue anyone who refused to do their job. Or, worse, anyone who tried to escape.

The vast majority of the workers were there willingly, and they were happy to be helping. Father Eli had a very devoted following now, ever since he had partnered with Mark. The fiery, Apocalyptic sermons were part of the reason, and so was Eli's commitment to the New Order. But a great deal of the credit for the increase in numbers was due to Mark, and the fact that he had arranged to modify both the established followers, and the prospective ones. In a very real way, many of the flock had literally been brainwashed.

There was something that Castiel and company didn't know about Mark, and it was an important detail. He had powered up again, by using the Angel Grace of a very high-ranked individual. When the faux Gospel writer had first returned to Earth in the company of Lanister and Xavier, Mark had been devoid of Angelic powers. He had been doing grunt work in Hell, along with the others. Actually, Mark had been doing as little work as possible, as was customary for him. Like other longtime Angels of higher standing, Mark had a sense of entitlement, warranted or not. Therefore, he didn't believe that he should have to do anything which even resembled work. His name was legendary, and he was the only Gospel writer left on the game board, after all. John and Matthew were dead, and Luke was in the Netherworld. It was Mark who had the Biblical cachet, and he had been trading on it for aeons. It had been much easier to do that in Heaven, of course. But even in Hell, there had been Demons who had been gullible enough to believe that Mark still had influence with certain high-powered individuals. Those Demons had been easy enough targets for Mark's con-man patter, and as a result, he had done very little actual toiling during his time in Hell.

But once Mark had gotten back to Earth, he had discovered something troubling: on Earth, no one cared who you were. Frankly, most humans were out of the loop, as far as Heaven's hierarchy went. Even the True Believers wouldn't give him the time of day without some proof that he was who and what he said he was.

The inspiration had hit Mark as he'd been wandering around the streets on Earth, wondering what he wanted to do next. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. Hanging around Demons for as long as he had must have made him stupid. That must be the reason. Why else would he have forgotten about the little vial of pure gold that was stashed at his and Felicia's old house?

Way back after Castiel's tribunal, when Ignatius had come to live with Felicia and Mark and little Robbie, Felicia's father had made the decision to remove his own Grace, and become mortal. Cas and Gail had misremembered the incident as Bobby having removed it from Ignatius for the spell that would cure Cas from Metatron's fictitious mystery cocktail. But there had been no such incident, because there had been no such spell. It had only been part of Metatron's pervasive modification of his least favourite Angels, at the time.

It was actually Felicia who had assisted Ignatius in removing his Grace, and when the operation had been completed, Ignatius had instructed his daughter to place the vial somewhere safe around the house, but not to tell him where. In case he had a weak moment, Ignatius didn't want to be tempted to take it back. He'd told Felicia to save the vial "for a rainy day", as the expression went. She would know the right thing to do with it, when the time came.

But it hadn't worked out that way, of course. Mark had left Felicia and her son to go into service for Lucifer, and then, he had murdered her. Ignatius had already been in the ground by then, a victim of human frailty, and his own poor decision. The former Upper Echelon Angel's Grace was still at the house in the vial, where Felicia had hidden it. Luckily, she had told her husband where.

As much time as Frank had spent in and around the kitchen of his and Jody's house, which they had taken over after Felicia's murder so that they could raise Robbie in familiar surroundings, Gail's brother had no idea that there was a hidden treasure buried in the dirt underneath the window sill. Felicia had taken the vial containing her father's Grace and planted it there, and there it had remained, undiscovered, after all these years.

Mark had gone to the house and retrieved the item, making sure not to be seen by any of the occupants of the house. He had caught a glimpse of the young man he had once known as Robbie through the kitchen window, but Mark had made no attempt to communicate with him. He'd had no feelings for the boy back when Felicia had insisted on adopting him, and Mark had no feelings for him now. He merely noted with amusement that the boy was tall and lanky now, and that he bore no resemblance whatsoever to his real father, Vincent. Maybe he favoured the birth mother. Whoever that had been.

Mark had glanced at the house for one more moment before pocketing the vial. If he wanted to, he could ingest his former father-in-law's Grace right here and now, and burn that house right down to the ground, with just a wave of his little finger. Incinerate everyone who had the misfortune to be in it, at the time. But Mark didn't give a damn about these piddly humans. He was much more interested in playing the long game, tangling with the heavy hitters. Castiel. Gabriel. God. Or the man who they were currently calling God, anyway. Lanister had lashed out in a rash move, attempting to exact revenge. And Mark supposed he had gotten it, in a way. Gail's heart had been broken by her Angel friend Liz's murder. But all that deed had gotten Lanister in the end was a slow and excruciatingly painful death, at the bottom of the Lake of Fire. And at last report, Xavier and Patricia had been thick as thieves, plotting and scheming about how to go about instituting a new regime in Heaven. Mark wished them luck with that; he really did. But neither of them had any idea what they were doing. Patricia had Chuck's stolen Grace, an Angel blade she had liberated from Heaven, and her hatred of the current administration to fuel her. Xavier had his piety, and the belief that he and Patricia were the only ones who knew what was best for Heaven, and for the Angels. But that was all he had.

Mark aspired to more. He had never subscribed to the theory that the good guys always had to win, or indeed, that they always SHOULD win. Lucifer's problem had been a lack of focus. He had been like the childhood bully who struts into the schoolyard, intimidates a few kids, and then waits for everybody to just hand him their lunch money. The Devil had had the name and the evil reputation, but he hadn't had the sustainability.

This Vincent character seemed like he might be a real contender, though. He had the Beast of the Apocalypse for a son, and the Angel of the Abyss by his side. Abbadon was a half-Angel, half-Demon who had nearly taken over the reins of Hell from the King, himself. Mark knew that all that trio had to do was find the False Prophet, and the perfect situation would then exist to realize the eschatological prophecy that Mark's Biblical colleague Daniel had written about.

Mark slunk off to a private location, and inhaled Ignatius's Grace. He breathed it in deeply, savouring every ounce of Angelic power. "Thanks, 'Dad'," he said sardonically. Then he'd wiggled a finger, just to try it out, and all of the life-support machines at the local hospital shut down, all at once.

He grinned. Way to go, Ignatius. All that power in one little finger, and the old man had chosen to die a human. What a loser.

But Mark was going to be a winner, this time. He closed his eyes and concentrated and soon, an image of the False Prophet appeared. Not that they were going to call him that, of course. Bad marketing. Up may be down and black may be white these days, but nobody was going to follow a guy whose title was "the False Prophet".

That was OK. That was where Mark came in. Now that he had more than enough go juice, he would go and see this "Brother Eli", and give him a makeover. Mark grinned again, and then he popped himself up to Ontario, Canada.

It was October now, and Mark had achieved his goal. As he and Eli watched over their burgeoning flock, Cas and Gail were standing in the foyer of Eli's family home in Georgetown, Illinois.

James' widow Kathleen had answered the door to Cas's knock. She had finally torn herself away from her deceased husband's bedside long enough for the ambulance to take his body away, and she had been aimlessly puttering around the house ever since, unsure of what to do. Eli had been there earlier, but now he was gone. Where? She had no idea. Nor were David or Roman here, either. Oh, well. She was certain that one of her sons would be here soon, to tell her what to do.

When Cas had knocked on the front door of the house, Kathleen had just put the kettle on, in the kitchen. She'd rushed out to the foyer and opened the door. Her face had fallen when she'd seen the two strangers standing on the porch.

"We're extremely sorry to bother you at your time of loss, but we need to speak to you about a matter of some urgency," Cas had said, using his old-world manners. "May we come in, for just a moment?"

He had used just the right tone. "Yes, all right. Just for a moment," Kathleen had said absently. She moved aside to let them in, and then the kettle had started to whistle. "Excuse me," she said, scurrying out of the room.

Gail stared after the woman. It was funny how first impressions were, sometimes. Tommy and Carolyn were both outgoing people with strong personalities, but their mother was a mousy little woman, who hadn't even looked the Angels in the eye.

Of course, that might be because, from what she and Cas understood about the way things had worked in this house, James had been the Lord and Master of his family. Gail was doing the slow burn as she looked around, picturing their friends as little kids, here. "King James", kicking the boys down the stairs, and hitting them in the face with the heavy Bible he read to them from, claiming to be teaching them the morals and values the book was supposed to represent.

Gail looked at Cas. He was standing stiffly at attention with a lack of expression, almost as if he was that long-ago soldier, Castiel. But she knew that he must be feeling even more disgusted than she was. Whether or not the Bible was the sacred book many humans believed it to be, or just a collection of fables and anecdotes written by a motley crew of individuals following their own agendae, the usage of the book that documented Cas and his family as the first people on the planet Earth as an instrument of abuse would be very personal to Cas, she knew.

Kathleen came back. "What is it that you want?" she said to Cas, suspicion in her voice. Gail resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was it with these religious fanatics? They all ignored her, and spoke to Cas as if he was the only person in the room.

Cas cleared his throat, and then he said something that made Gail look at him sharply.

"We're Angels of the Lord," Castiel told Tommy and Carolyn's mother, "and we need your help."

"I'm sorry about this, but I have no choice," Gabriel said to his Brother.

"Yes, you do!" Daniel exclaimed. "You always have a choice!"

"You don't understand," the Archangel said through gritted teeth. He raised his blade high, and the moonlight glinted along the golden edge. It would have been a magnificent sight, had Gabriel not brought him here to the literal surface of the moon to kill him, Daniel thought bitterly.

"But, why?" Daniel pled with his Brother. "You denounced me as a liar, in front of both God and Castiel!"

"I don't think Cas believed that," Gabriel muttered. "You weren't very convincing."

Daniel struggled to break free from the Archangel's grasp, but it was impossible. He was just an ordinary Angel, a footnote in Biblical lore, really. He wasn't even a member of the Upper Echelon, any more. Still, he sensed some hesitation on Gabriel's part, so he pressed on, trying to plead for his life:

"What does it even matter, any more?" Daniel asked his assailant.

"You let me worry about that," Gabe said, but now, it was the Archangel who wasn't sounding very convincing. Truthfully, he had no idea why it should matter. All he knew was that he had been instructed to kill Daniel, and he'd brought the Angel here to the moon to dispose of his remains. Gabriel never should have left Matthew's corpse in the Gospel writer's suite in Heaven. That could have been disastrous.

"Please, Brother. You don't want to do this," Daniel begged him.

"You're right. I don't," Gabriel remarked, and his blade hand wavered.

"Then, don't," Daniel said in a reasonable tone. "Take me back to Heaven, and we need never speak of this again. I'll tell anyone who will listen that you were not the Archangel who visited me that night. Or, if you would prefer, I will never speak of it at all."

Gabriel was silent. If only it were that simple. But...wasn't it? Why couldn't he just let this one live?

"You sentenced my Brother Castiel to death at the tribunal," Gabriel said in a monotone, raising the knife again.

"If that is what you have to tell yourself to justify what you are proposing to do, fine," Daniel said coolly, "but you and I both know that this has nothing to do with Castiel."

But that was where he was wrong. "It has everything to do with Castiel," Gabriel said, and he plunged his blade into Daniel's chest.

**VIGNETTE - THE ANT HILL KIDS**

"I knew that the only way she was going to give us any information on her son was to tell her that we were Angels," Cas was telling Sam and Dean.

As soon as they'd found out from Kathleen that Elijah headed a "ministry" in Ontario, Canada, Cas had made a quick call to Barry and Mike. She had stated that she didn't know exactly where in Ontario his parish was. But he wouldn't be there, anyway, Kathleen had added. Eli had been here at the house just recently, taking care of things while his mother had been in mourning. It would be impossible for him to have gotten back to Canada so quickly.

Cas and Gail had exchanged glances. Not if he'd had some divine assistance. Both Angels suspected strongly that this might be the case. Mike and Barry's concern was contagious, though. The men had been talking of nothing else since the couple had left their home, and by now, they had worked themselves up into a frenzy.

When their Canadian friends referred to Roch Theriault and something called the "Ant Hill Kids" once more, Cas had pursed his lips together. The irony was totally lost on him. The men were doing the same thing to Cas that he did to others, all the time: repeating themselves, instead of simply explaining what they were talking about, in the first place. Obviously, they felt that the reference was important, and relevant to the situation at hand. But neither Cas nor Gail had any idea why.

Cas told the men that he would get back to them shortly, and then he hung up the phone and called Sam.

"Hey, Cas, how's it going?" the younger Winchester said. "Any news about Vincent?"

"No, but we have another problem, now," Cas told him. He went on to explain about Carolyn and Peter, and Eli.

Sam threw Dean a concerned glance. "You're lucky you caught us," he remarked. "We were heading out, in about an hour."

Cas and Gail suddenly appeared in the library area, startling the brothers. "Boy, that takes me back," Sam quipped. He gestured with his cell phone. "So...I'll just...hang up, then."

Dean grinned. There were times that he kind of missed that other version of Cas. Then again, at least his Angel friend no longer popped in here, or wherever the Winchesters happened to be, at all hours of the night. Well, not unless he and Gail had a fight, that was. But they actually hardly ever fought, especially not these days. Too busy trying to save the world from the latest Apocalypse, he guessed. Either that, or Gail had Cas trained up, by now. Probably a little of both.

"Sam, can you please look for Roch Theriault and the Ant Hill Kids on Google?" Cas asked their friend.

"That sounds like a really bad name for a band," Dean quipped.

"Or a really good one," Gail joked, nudging him.

Sam sighed, sitting down at his laptop. "OK, you guys, but you're really gonna have to start doing this for yourselves," he said wearily. "We told you, Dean and I are going back on the road, and we might be gone for a while."

Gail and Cas exchanged glances, but then, the Angels shrugged. The brothers had been talking about going back out there for ages, now. The couple was spoiled, having them to rely on, Gail realized. She and Cas were going to either have to learn how to do this kind of research themselves, or they were going to have to start outsourcing it. She smiled to herself.

Their Angel friends had no idea that both Sam and Dean had received a little assistance, courtesy of Frank and Jody. The brothers were feeling energized, like they were in their 20s, again. The one lone drop they'd each imbibed from the waters of the fabled Fountain of Youth had mixed with the drink of water the Winchesters had each had from the Garden of Heaven years ago, when they had perished in that explosion at Crowley's den. That particular drink of sacred liquid combined with what Jody and Frank had given them was enough to give the brothers a new sense of purpose, and renewed vigour to go with it.

"Roch Theriault, and the Ant Hill Kids," Sam said aloud. "They were a cult in Quebec and Ontario, Canada, in the late 1970s. They were called the 'Ant Hill Kids' because of their ant-like industriousness. Theriault talked his way into the Seventh Day Adventists, and then he persuaded groups of people there to quit their jobs and join his own religious group. Says here that he was convinced the Apocalypse was coming, and that only he could save his followers from it."

Cas and Dean looked at each other. "That sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?" Dean said dryly.

Cas's expression was grim. Yes, it did; it sounded all too familiar. Did Barry and Mike think Elijah was another one of those Doomsday cult leaders?

"He started calling himself 'Moses'. He set up a commune that was supposedly free of sin, and he told people they stood for equality, and unity," Sam went on.

"That last part sounds terrific, but I get the feeling you're going to drop one hell of a bomb on us, in a minute," Gail said, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by 'free of sin'?" Cas asked, his brow furrowed.

Sam grinned. "No tobacco, no unhealthy foods, no alcohol."

"It's a good thing you didn't try to join those guys," Gail teased Dean. "That's most of your personality, right there."

He gave her a baleful look. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yep."

Dean shook his head slowly. Between Gail and her brother, he didn't know who was worse, sometimes. He also didn't know what on earth he would ever do without them.

"But the Adventists kicked the group out for 'weird behaviour', whatever that means," Sam continued, "and things started going downhill from there. Roch moved them all out to the countryside, and then he cut his followers off from their friends and families. And then, he developed a drinking problem."

"Hypocrite," Dean remarked, and Cas's frown deepened. "That is frequently the case, with these types of individuals," Cas stated, in his best Captain Obvious manner.

"I think we can all pretty much predict what happens next," Sam said, and now he was starting to frown, too, as he read the text on the screen. "Theriault's rules became stricter, and he became more controlling. He started to spy on his followers, and if some of them didn't seem devoted enough, or if they talked about leaving, he would..." Sam's voice trailed off. "Wow."

"What? What would he do?" Cas asked his friend, and Gail looked at her husband sharply. There was a strange quality to his voice that she couldn't quite identify.

Sam swallowed the bile that rose in this throat as he read, "He would hit them with belts or hammers, suspend them from the ceiling, pluck each and every hair on their body, one at a time..."

"Get outta here," Dean said, his face screwed up in disgust. "Seriously?"

"Oh, it gets worse," Sam said, scrolling down. "I won't tell you everything I'm seeing here, but suffice it to say, it's pretty bad."

Dean gestured in frustration. "It's like I always say: monsters, I get; it's people that are crazy."

They were all silent for a moment. He wasn't wrong.

"No kidding," Sam said, shaking his head at what he was reading. "When the world didn't end when he told his followers it would, the guy made every excuse in the book. He abused his 'wives' and the kids they'd had with him, both physically and sexually. He went to work on them with tools, removing body parts. He would force them to break their own legs with sledgehammers. He would..." Sam stopped talking. He turned away from the computer. "Nope. No way. I can't," he said, frowning deeply.

Cas leaned forward, scrutinizing the computer screen. His mouth tightened, and he worked his jaw back and forth. Gail knew that look. Her husband was furious.

"What, Cas? What is it?" Dean asked his friend. Geez, it must be bad, he thought. Check out the looks on their faces.

"He would nail the children to a tree, and force other children to throw rocks at them," Cas said in a harsh tone. His eyes flashed a bright blue, and two rows of books flew off the bookshelf opposite where Sam was sitting.

"Cas! What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Cas said quietly. "I just got so angry," he added, somewhat unnecessarily.

Gail was staring at her husband. It didn't surprise her that Cas had gotten that angry over what he had read. Cas was extremely soft-hearted when it came to women and children being abused. But his reaction had been a little more demonstrative than she was used to seeing.

"Sum it up, Cas," Dean barked. He was as sickened as the rest of them by what he was hearing.

Cas looked at the computer again. "Theriault was finally apprehended in the late 1980s, when one of his followers managed to escape. He was given a life sentence, but he served very little of it. His cell-mate stabbed him to death, then gave the bloody knife to the prison guards, confessing to the crime."

"Somebody, give that guy a medal," Dean said hoarsely, and Sam nodded vigorously.

Cas's lips were pursed again, but he had regained his composure. The truth was, he had seen worse. The Inquisition, the Crusades...even further back than that. The Romans, the Israelites, the Philistines. He could go on and on. Every time humans operated under the premise that they presumed to know God's Will, or worse, operated under the erroneous impression that they were doing His bidding, these kinds of things tended to happen. Historically, more cruelty had been done in God's name than had ever been done in Lucifer's.

"What does all of this have to do with Tommy and Carolyn's brother, though?" Gail asked the others. "This stuff happened years and years ago."

The men were wondering that, too. "I remember that Mike and Barry were saying that this Eli had the potential to be another Roch Theriault," Cas finally said, thoughtfully. "Maybe this isn't supposed to be a direct correlation, only a cautionary tale."

"Man, if that guy is even a fraction as bad as this guy, we'd better bring all the firepower we've got," Sam stated. He looked at Cas. "You said Eli's group is somewhere in Ontario?"

"That's what their mother said," their Angel friend replied, "but that was all she knew. I read her thoughts, to make sure. I got the impression that her son doesn't want to be found."

"Well, there's no such thing, these days," Sam remarked. He turned back to the computer. "Not if you're the leader of a large, so-called 'religious group'. I'll bet you anything I can get you a location in about two minutes."

Sam typed away at his laptop as Cas and Gail looked on admiringly. They realized now how much they took his research skills for granted, at times.

Sure enough, a minute or two later, the younger Winchester sat back in his chair. "Bingo!" he said triumphantly. "Stories about a religious cult in the Niagara Region of Ontario, Canada. Leader's name is Elijah, aka Elias, aka Father Eli. He's got a few hundred followers, and they live on a commune in the countryside. They grow their own vegetables, some of which they sell to people in nearby towns. Eli's applied for a license to establish a winery. It's all here. If he's trying to hide, he's doing a piss-poor job of it. There are photos of him and some of his followers here in the town, interacting with the locals." Sam paused, peering at the computer screen intently.

Cas and Gail looked over his shoulder, and Cas inhaled sharply, then cursed in Enochian.

"Holy crap! That's Mark!" Gail exclaimed.

"Eli is Mark?" Dean said, confused.

"No; he's there, beside the guy they identify in the caption as 'Father Eli'," Gail clarified, pointing at the computer screen. She looked at Cas. "What the hell is HE doing there?"

Cas was extremely angry now. "It's obvious, isn't it? I can't believe I didn't make the connection before! Tommy and Carolyn's brother Eli is Elijah, the False Prophet of the Apocalypse!"

Gail was startled. Cas was right; he had to be. Gabriel had called the False Prophet "Elijah", and the brother was "Eli", and... Anyway, now that they had the apparent confirmation that he was who they – and Vincent – had been searching for all this time, there was only one thing left to do.

"Lock and load," Dean announced, but Cas held up a hand.

"Just a moment," the Angel said. "Let's not forget, we strongly suspect that Carolyn and Peter are there against their will. It looks as if many of these followers are young people, primarily young girls." He pointed to the computer screen. "They are likely impressionable, to be generous about it. At worst, they may be modified. See the looks on their faces?'

"They look really, really happy," Sam remarked, and then he nodded slowly in comprehension. "I get what you're saying, Cas. They look TOO happy."

As Cas nodded his head, agreeing with Sam's assessment, Dean made an impatient sound. "Wait a minute. How's this douchebag Mark modifying people? Didn't he escape Hell with Xavier and Lanister?"

"Yes, he did, Dean, but - " Cas started to say, but Dean interrupted him. "So, how can he be modifying people, if he doesn't have any Angel Grace?" the elder Winchester inquired.

Cas's mouth dropped open. Unbelievable. He had never even thought of that. How could he have not thought of that?

"He must have stolen some, from somewhere," Gail mused aloud. "I wonder if he killed... one of us. Funny, though; I thought he was too much of a weenie to do something like that."

"He is," Gabriel said. He had suddenly popped into the library area, making Sam and Dean jump. But Gabe ignored the brothers. He was here to help out. The Archangel felt like he hadn't exactly been pulling his weight lately on this whole Vincent deal. He had no recollection of having murdered Daniel a short while ago, nor did he remember the reason he had been compelled to do it. All he knew was that his Brother and Sister needed his help right now, and he was damn well going to give it to them.

Gabe approached Cas and Gail. He gave Gail a playful nudge. "Nice word usage, Kitten. Mark IS a weenie. There's no way he killed an Angel to get their Grace. No way." Unlike you, a voice in Gabriel's head piped up. But the Archangel ignored it. Sure, he'd killed Angels in the past. He'd had to. But he sure as hell had never killed a Brother or Sister to get their Grace, though. Not that he would ever need to, of course, not with his kind of power. Gabriel also had no recollection of having hidden the vial of Grace he'd taken from Daniel before he'd murdered him.

"If Mark has stolen Grace, we can't allow you and Sam to put your lives, or the lives of those innocent followers, in jeopardy," Cas said grimly, switching into soldier mode.

"Why not? He's still gonna be just an Angel, and this guy Eli's just a human," Dean argued.

Cas and Gabriel exchanged glances. "I hate to tell you this, Rambo, but if Mark's powered up, he's not 'just' an Angel," Gabe said sardonically. "He's a Biblical VIP, whether we like it or not. That means he'll be grandfathered with some pretty heavy-duty powers. I know you boys like to go in there with guns a-blazing, but if you do that here, you'll be vapourized in about two seconds."

"Even if we could protect you, we have to make sure that no innocents get hurt," Cas added. "We got lucky in Paris."

The brothers were silent, because they could see the Angels' point. They HAD gotten lucky in Paris. When they'd gone to that facility and all the shooting had started, those immigrant families had been right there, in the line of fire. They couldn't risk the same kind of situation happening again.

"We will go there, and see what we're dealing with," Cas went on. He looked at his wife. Now, Cas was thinking about that compound that she and Rob and Vincent's other offspring had been held captive in. It could be much more complicated than it appeared to be, on the surface. At the moment, they were only surmising that Vincent hadn't located the False Prophet, yet. Logic would seem to dictate that if he had, he would have triggered whatever Apocalyptic event he'd had planned, by now. But they couldn't be sure. How did they know that this wasn't a trap, and that Carolyn and Peter hadn't been taken as bait?

"We'll let you know if we need your help," Cas said to the Winchesters. He told Gail and Gabriel over their Angel frequency where he thought they should go next, and the three Angels disappeared from the bunker, leaving a frustrated pair of brothers behind.


	9. Cult Of Personality

**Chapter 5 - Cult Of Personality**

"She likes that cheap mac and cheese, the kind that comes in boxes," Mike told Frank, as they watched Angela, Jackie and a newly-arrived Ilene playing in the living room. "And she'll try to negotiate with you to extend her bedtime, even on a school night. Of course, since Ilene's only staying here with you for a short while, we won't worry so much about bedtime. That'll be up to you guys."

"Don't worry, this is hardly my first rodeo," Frank reassured the men.

"I know, Frank," Barry replied. "It's just... I've never left her with anybody, before."

Frank nodded, although he wasn't exactly sure why Barry and Mike were leaving Ilene here, now. A few minutes ago, Cas had called, asking Frank and Jody for a favour. Then the Angels had shown up with Mike and Barry and Ilene in tow. They'd sent Ilene to play with the girls, and then summed up the situation for the adults in the house.

Jody and Frank were looking at each other curiously. While they could certainly understand the need to be cautious, it was hard for them to grasp why Cas had agreed to bring Barry and Mike with him and Gail. Barry had never picked up a weapon before, ever, and Mike might wield a mean monkey wrench at the garage, but about the most violent transaction Carolyn's boyfriend had ever been a part of had involved too much whiskey and another guy's fists, in a local pub.

But it was Cas's call, and presumably, he had some kind of a plan in place. Maybe Mike and Barry had insisted on going, and Cas hadn't had the heart to say no. Both Frank and Jody remembered how crazy Cas had been when Gail had been in that compound. They had been crazy, too, worrying about both Rob and Gail. The Angels had handled it back then, though, and Jody and Frank trusted them to handle it now.

"We'll call on you, if we need you," Cas said to the Hunters now, mirroring what he'd said to the Winchesters.

And then, just like that, the Angels and the two human men were gone.

Mark was sitting in the office at the commune, trying to come up with a hook for the latest sermon. It was a fine line, sometimes. You wanted to put the fear of God into them, but you didn't want them so scared that they became paralyzed with that fear. You wanted them helpless and hopeless, looking for divine guidance. But it wasn't enough just to sit back passively, praying to an ancient deity. Oh, no. If Father Eli's children wanted to escape the rising of the dead with their hides intact, they would have to be a lot more proactive than that.

Mark had the congregation primed for action. The fact that he didn't have any idea what sort of action Eli had in mind didn't really concern Mark. The former Gospel writer was content just to be on the sidelines right now, watching the fervour grow. This whole situation was beginning to look awfully familiar to Mark. Way back in the day, the more fanatical devotees of the Word had practiced near-pagan rituals, such as idolatry, and ritual sacrifice. Many people didn't know that, or they were in denial about it. Vincent thought that he and his cult were dark and mysterious because of the ceremonies they conducted using blood and bones, but Papa Legba couldn't even begin to imagine what sorts of shockingly evil deeds had been performed in ancient times under the guise of piety, and devotion.

But Mark knew, and as he put pen to paper once more, he wondered how many followers would have to be sacrificed to get this party started. He grinned. The Angels were on their way here, for what was sure to be an epic showdown. Maybe he should carry a notebook around with him, to record the events for posterity. Maybe Mark could even write an addendum to the Bible. In fact, they should probably just burn all the existing copies of the Bible, and write a new one. Up was down, and black was white. This time, Mark would actually write a few chapters of his own, instead of just taking credit for whoever had actually written about the Son of God. Nobody knew who had penned that particular fable. Mark had merely been the one to discover the document, and he had proceeded to claim it as his own. Gabriel called him a plagiarist, but as far as Mark was concerned, nothing could be further from the truth. It was the other three who had copied from that series of passages, not the other way around. That was why the styles of writing were so different.

Still, it couldn't hurt to throw a little bit more fire and brimstone into the sermon, so Mark did that now. He quoted his fallen colleague Matthew to end the speech. Matthew may have been a pompous old fossil, but he'd known how to cut right to the heart of the matter.

Mark grinned again. He didn't mind a little old-fashioned bloodletting every now and then, as long as it wasn't his blood that was being spilled. He got up from his seat at the desk and went in search of Elijah.

"Are you sure that you feel comfortable enough to perpetrate this subterfuge?" Cas asked Mike, as Carolyn's boyfriend pulled on his suit jacket.

"Fine, Cas. I'm fine," Mike said tersely, but his voice was quavering.

Gail's lips were pressed tightly together. This was crazy. Why on earth were they letting Mike walk in there like this, with no training, and no weapon?

The answer was simple, but complicated, at the same time. Simply put, Mike was the only one of their little group whose face Mark wouldn't recognize. Cas had briefly considered sending Barry in, but the Angel had ultimately decided it was too risky. Barry and Tommy had been living in the bunker when Mark had been in Lucifer's employ, and Mark would have seen Tommy's husband there, Cas was sure, if only for a couple of minutes. So, in the end, Cas had opted to send Mike into the commune, instead. Mike was going to pose as the owner of a local vineyard, there to talk to Father Eli about a possible deal. Sam had given Cas the idea, when their friend had revealed that the so-called Prophet was looking to start his own label.

Mike knew very little about wine. Barry had been attempting to give Carolyn's boyfriend a crash course, but there was only so much he could absorb in such a brief period, Mike had pled. Besides, he wasn't going to be there that long. The plan was to get in there, do the recon, and get out. That was it.

It was too bad that Gabriel couldn't have come, Cas thought, pursing his lips together in frustration. But that was another thing they couldn't risk. If what they supposed was true and Mark was re-infused with Angel Grace, he would be able to sense an Archangel in the vicinity. Cas and Gail still had their warding tattoos, which had served them well over the years.

It was strange, too, because they'd had several discussions about the subject, in the last year or so. Cas knew that his wife had never wanted the warding tattoo, and frankly, neither had he. Of course, Cas had gotten his years before he and Gail had met in this current timeline. He had needed it at the time, to hide himself from the legions of Angels who had been seeking revenge after The Fall. And Gail had been forced to get hers when she and Castiel had gone on the run from Xavier and his witch-hunt of a tribunal. Cas was the one who was responsible for that. Gail had borne the pain of the needle and the markings on her pristine skin stoically, for him, but every time they made love, a part of Cas wondered if they shouldn't just ask Bobby to remove their wardings. How many times had Cas been unable to find Gail by Angelic means, and how many of those times had she been in mortal danger? Even once was too much. The Angels were no longer their enemies. Maybe it was time to reconsider their priorities.

That had been Cas's thought process going into this mission, but now, he was glad he hadn't actually broached the subject out loud. If Mark had Angelic Grace once more, and they were almost certain now that he did, he would have been able to tell that Castiel and Gail were nearby.

"Find out whatever you can, but be very, very careful," Cas cautioned Mike. "Remember, you're there to gather information, only. Don't put yourself in harm's way, and if you see Carolyn and Peter, don't communicate with them. Is that clear?"

"Sure, Cas," Mike said, nodding. "Don't worry. I've seen lots of movies where the undercover cop gets caught because they catch him with a wire on, or taking pictures, or something. I'm not gonna do anything like that, I promise."

Cas's stomach churned. Mike had seen lots of movies. What on earth was Cas doing? Was he really going to send their friend into the bosom of a cult headed by a potentially fanatical, unbalanced individual? To say nothing of the presence of a known killer, in the form of a recharged Angel? Cowardly though Mark may be, he had murdered the woman who had been his wife. Who knew what else he might be capable of?

But they had to know what type of situation they were dealing with, and Mike had pleaded with Cas to be pressed into service. And that was when things had gotten a bit more complicated. The more human side of Cas could completely understand where Mike was coming from. The woman he loved and his surrogate son were suspected to be held there against their will, subjected to... what, exactly? No one knew for sure, but after the horrifying things Sam had told them about Roch Theriault, Cas now had a better perspective on why he and Barry might be so concerned.

But there was more to Cas's method than simple compassion. The reality of the situation was that he needed intel. Prior to his planned incursion, Castiel needed to know how many people were there, whether there were weapons, and the physical layout of the compound. That was the information that he was sending Mike in to obtain; nothing more. Then, depending on what he discovered, Cas would decide how best to proceed.

"Are you ready?" Cas asked Mike, who was straightening his tie once again.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Mike replied, and then he made a face. "Wow. Talk about one of the world's worst cliches. Sorry, you guys. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"You don't have to do this, Mike," Barry said, but Carolyn's boyfriend put his hand on Barry's shoulder. "Yeah. I do," Mike stated firmly.

They were all silent for a moment. Then Cas took Mike's arm and Gail took Barry's hand, and then they were gone.

Carolyn wiped her hands on the apron she wore around her waist. "I need to go to the bathroom," she announced loudly.

Lance smirked. He was one of the Deacons assigned to the kitchen prep area in the main house. Most of the 'congregation', as Father Eli called them, approached the Deacons quietly and discreetly when they had a call of nature. But this one made sure that everyone within a 10-mile radius knew when she had to pee. "Go ahead, Carol," he said to her, nodding in the direction of the doorway. Technically speaking, the Deacon was supposed to accompany the person leaving the room, to make sure they were actually going where they said they were going. But he had a dozen people to keep an eye on, and two of the girls in the kitchen had been seeing the same guy behind each others' backs, and everybody knew about it, including the guy in question. There were a lot of potentially lethal implements in the kitchen, and when the news got out, Lance figured he'd better be there when it did.

Carolyn had studied the various Deacons, and she knew that Lance was one of the ones who got lackadaisical, at times. So she rushed out of the room, ignoring the amused glances of the other women, and the fact that Lance had called her "Carol" once again, when she'd specifically told him that she preferred "Carolyn".

She walked down the corridor past the makeshift Arts and Crafts room, where Peter and a couple of dozen other kids were working on Biblical posters for the chapel in the barn. She was tempted to stop in and make sure her son was behaving himself, but then, Carolyn had thought better of it. Peter had gotten better at conforming to the standards set by "Father Eli", but every once in a while, her son's exasperation with the situation mirrored her own.

Carolyn had really thought that someone would have figured out what was going on, by now. She had given Mike as many clues as she'd dared. But clearly, he hadn't picked up on them. Or, he had, but none of them had been able to find the commune's location.

In any case, it was time to risk another message. There was something very, very wrong here. When that man Mark had shown up at her childhood home and Eli had told Carolyn they were taking her and Peter to Eli's "Ministry", she had rolled her eyes and told him no thanks. But Eli and Mark had looked at each other, Mark had waved his hand as if he was swatting at a fly, and a moment later, she and Peter had found themselves here, at the commune.

She'd tried to reason with her brother. What was the point? Did he think she was just going to turn her back on her boyfriend and Tommy's husband, and -

Eli had interrupted her, quoting passages from the Bible like their father used to do, using the Scriptures to support his intolerance. Then he had ranted and railed at her that no sister and nephew of his were going to live a Godless existence, that she had better get herself right with the Almighty before the Judgement came, and that she would thank him, in the future. Then two of his "Deacons" had entered the room carrying handguns and syringes, and she had understood.

Ever since that first day, Carolyn had been outwardly calm and cooperative. She knew that being constantly sedated would impede her ability to devise an escape plan. So far she had none, but learning how much she could get away with around Deacons like Lance was a start. When she and Peter retired to their little room after a long day's work, she had whispered to her son to play along with his Uncle Eli and the rest of the grownups, and she was going to work on a way to get them out of there.

But, enough was enough. Carolyn had no intention of being a Moonie, or a Manson girl. Her brother was nuts, and she needed to grab Peter and get him the hell out of there, before they started passing out the plastic cups of Kool-Aid.

She continued on down the hallway until she got to the door of Eli's office. She pressed her ear to the door, praying that her brother wouldn't be there. This time, she was going to use his phone to call Mike and beg him to call Bobby, or Cas. That man Mark had teleported them here – wherever "here" was – from the States, and Carolyn had also seen him use some other powers, once she and Peter had gotten here. If Mark was an Angel, or some other kind of otherworldly being, maybe the Angels could use their Heavenly GPS to trace him, Carolyn reasoned.

But her heart sank into her stomach when she heard their voices inside. Eli and Mark were having a conversation that Carolyn could...just...make out, if she pressed her head right against the door.

"The women are in the kitchen, getting the feast ready," Mark reported.

Carolyn rolled her eyes. It was bad enough that she was living in an episode of Little House on the Freaking Prairie; did she have to be stereotyped, too? But it was funny how male chauvinism only went so far here, because she and the other women were doing plenty of the manual labour, also. As with many cults in recent history, the lion's share of Father Eli's followers were female, so she supposed that, mathematically, it only made sense. Still, it rankled her that each and every individual in her brother's organization who was in any sort of position of authority was male.

"Good," Eli said briskly. "We'll have the service in the barn, I'll give my final sermon, and then we'll do the ritual to summon the Trinity."

"Do you think the sacrifice will be freely given, or will you need me to use a bit of persuasion?" Mark said, and Carolyn's blood ran cold in her veins at the possible implications of what she was hearing.

"I think I've laid the groundwork," Eli replied calmly. "We'll see. I'd rather it be given willingly, because the ritual will be purer that way. But if I need you to use a little coercion, I'll let you know. Either way, she'll give us what we require, tonight. I guarantee it."

She? Sacrifice? Oh, crap on a stick, Carolyn thought. Suddenly, she had a flashback of their father with the open Bible on his lap, reading aloud to a wide-eyed little girl and her four brothers about Abraham, taking his son up the mountain to kill him, because God had asked him for the ultimate sacrifice. "King James" had been full of religious fervour as he had described the scene to his young children. But how could Abraham even think about killing his own son? Tommy had asked their father in a hushed voice. Because God required it, James had responded grimly. As if that was any sort of an explanation. Their youngest brother Roman, who had only been about four or five years old at the time, had cried so hard that night that their mother had been forced to give him something just to calm him down.

Carolyn began to tremble. Was Eli planning to sacrifice Peter, for whatever he and Mark were planning to do to bring about Armageddon?

She pulled her head away from the office door as if it was red-hot, and looked around wildly. What was she going to do now?

Deacon Thomas had been assigned to the front gate at the compound, and he was now escorting their visitor to the main building. When Thomas had called Father Eli on his office line to report that a Mr. Verde was there to speak with him, their leader was suspicious. Who was that? Then the Deacon had advised that their visitor was from Dunn Estates, one of the largest wineries in the Niagara Region, and then Father Eli's tone had changed.

Mike was looking around in a casual way as the man who'd introduced himself as Deacon Thomas was leading him through the compound. So far, Carolyn's boyfriend hadn't seen anything alarming, but Mike was well aware that appearances could be deceiving, especially in situations like this. They passed young men and women and a few kids on their way to the main building, and the commune's denizens looked to all outward appearance to be happy and healthy. Mike didn't see anyone who looked scared, and he didn't see any weapons, although he realized that Deacon Thomas could be carrying one under the heavy overcoat he wore.

The two men had been chatting about the weather and the upcoming CFL playoffs when the front door of the main building burst open, and Carolyn came rushing out. She had decided to take a look outside and see how many armed Deacons there were, and their locations. Maybe she could grab Peter, and the two of them could burrow under a fence, or something.

In her frenzy to escape, Carolyn didn't register that the visitor in the suit and tie was Mike; not at first, anyway. She could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him in formal clothes. In fact, Deacon Thomas had been looking at Mike's hands as the men had been talking, and Mike had been astute enough to know why. So he had told the man that he worked on restoring classic cars as a hobby, and that was why he had dirt under his fingernails, the kind of grease stains that every mechanic wore. No matter what kind of soap you used, or how much, your fingernails never quite came clean.

Thomas had seemed satisfied with Mike's answer, and the latter had mentally congratulated himself on his quick thinking. But now, Mike would be tested again. His heart had stopped for a moment when he'd seen the woman he loved come rushing out of the building with that panicked look on her face.

Remembering Cas's warning, Mike caught Carolyn's eye and he gave his head a slight shake, hoping she would pick up on his signal. Her eyes widened, but he was glad to see that she made a quick recovery.

"Deacon Thomas," Carolyn said to Mike's escort, trying to keep her voice from quavering.

"What are you doing here?" Thomas asked her. "Aren't you supposed to be in the kitchen, helping prepare the feast?"

"I was feeling a little bit sick to my stomach, so I just came outside for a breath of fresh air," Carolyn replied.

Deacon Thomas sighed. This one never did what she was supposed to do. Maybe she thought that, because she was Father Eli's sister, she could do whatever she wanted. But the Father himself had told all of his Deacons that Carolyn and her son Peter were to be treated exactly the same as any of the other parishioners, and Thomas, for one, had taken great pains to ensure that was the case.

"Well, since you're here, you can take Mr. Verde to Father's office," he said to her. "And hurry it up, because he's expecting him. I have to get back."

And just like that, Thomas turned around and headed back to the gate.

Carolyn and Mike gaped at each other for an instant. This was unbelievable! She had been praying for deliverance from this place, and here it was. There was only one problem: Peter was still in the Arts and Crafts centre, and she and Mike were being observed by others.

"Hi, Mr. Verde, I'm Carolyn," she said politely. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to Father Eli's office."

The instant they entered the building, Carolyn turned to her boyfriend. "Are you here by yourself?" she said softly.

"Yeah," he replied. "Cas sent me to get information on this place. Are you OK? Where's Peter?"

Carolyn opened her mouth to speak, but it was a male voice that Mike heard, instead.

"Hi, Mike," Mark said cheerfully. "What do you say we have a little chat?"

Cas, Gail and Barry were sitting in a booth at a diner in the nearest town, waiting for Mike to leave the compound. Cas had given their friend an hour to surveil the place, take his meeting with Eli, and leave the premises. Mike had assured him that shouldn't be a problem. He would call Cas on his cell as soon as it was safe, and the Angels would meet him on the forest path, once Mike had cleared the compound gates.

"How long has it been?" Cas fretted, and Gail and Barry exchanged glances, debating wordlessly whether they should remind him that he had access to the time on his cell phone. Not only that, but there was a large, old-style clock on the wall above the counter, where a handful of customers were enjoying coffee and pie.

Barry was stress-eating, as he'd called it. The moment they'd sat down, he had ordered a piece of apple pie with a scoop of ice cream, and he was currently working on his third slice of pie. It was pecan this time, and Gail had made a nervous quip that what Barry called stress eating, Dean just called dessert. Their Canadian friend had laughed, spraying pie crumbs all over the table. Gail had further quipped that now, he was REALLY reminding her of Dean.

Cas was ignoring the two of them, for the most part. He knew how Gail got when she was on edge, and if she was keeping Barry calm by using humour, so much the better. But Cas was nervous enough now for all three of them. What had he been thinking, sending Mike in there by himself? Whether or not it had been the smartest move, strategically speaking, he now felt as if it had been a terrible mistake.

"It's only been half an hour, Cas," Barry replied, placing his napkin on the table next to his half-eaten slice of pie. He now regretted having eaten as much as he had. The pie was sitting in his stomach like a big lump of doughy tension.

Cas's lips pursed together. Thirty minutes!? It felt a lot longer than that. He let out a frustrated breath. One hour. They'd agreed to one hour.

Dammit! Mike had thought as soon as Mark popped into the hallway of the main building to confront the couple. How had they known?

He supposed it didn't really matter. The fact was that they had, and now he and Carolyn and Peter were in trouble. Bad trouble. Mark had taken the two of them to Eli's office, and then, as Carolyn's brother was prosthelytizing to them about deception and sin, Mark winked over to the Arts and Crafts centre to get Peter. The boy had been overjoyed to see Mike, at first. But then, Peter realized that Mike's arrival didn't signal escape. No; not even close.

Mark was smug. Once again, he had demonstrated how valuable he was to the team. If not for Mark, Eli would have had no idea that "Mr. Verde" was actually Carolyn's boyfriend. Truthfully, Mark wouldn't have known, either. He had never met the man. When Mark had been associating with Lucifer, Carolyn hadn't even been in the picture yet, let alone her boyfriend. But Mark had searched Carolyn's mind when she and her kid had first arrived, and he had seen this guy Mike featured predominantly in her thoughts.

"Dunn Estates, huh?" the Angel scoffed. "Nice try."

Mike shrugged. "Hey, I had to do what I had to do. You guys are holding my girlfriend and her boy hostage, here. You have no right to do that."

"No right?!" Eli exclaimed. "She's my sister, and she's living in a house of sin!"

"You're such a hypocrite, Eli," Carolyn fumed. "I've seen more sinning in the short time I've been here than I ever saw in the suburbs of B.C."

"You and this man are living in sin!" her brother persisted.

"You got Wendy pregnant!" Carolyn shouted.

"You need to learn your place," Eli hissed through gritted teeth. He glanced at Mark, who waved his hand. A moment later, Peter cried out in pain, and his nose began to bleed.

Carolyn closed her mouth with a snap. She'd seen Mark dole out those types of "punishments" before, and the more the person who was being disciplined resisted, the worse the punishments became.

But Mike was incensed. He took the pocket square out of his suit jacket, the one that Barry had insisted he wear, and handed it to the boy. Peter looked at him gratefully.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mike said angrily. "He's just a kid!"

"All the more reason for him to learn how to behave," Eli said coolly. "I don't understand this hostile attitude you all seem to have. I'm trying to make sure that my sister and her son survive the coming Judgement."

Mark was staring at their captives speculatively now. As usual, Eli was missing the bigger picture, here. But, would it be enough?

Approximately ten minutes later, Cas asked for the time once more. Gail sat back in the booth, exhaling in frustration. "There's a clock right there," she said, pointing to the wall. "It's ten minutes since you asked us the last time."

Cas was frustrated, too. Didn't she understand what he was the one who would be responsible, if anything happened to Mike, or Carolyn, or Peter, or the rest of them?

"I'm thinking about ordering a milkshake," Barry remarked, trying to ease the tension. "I could get extra straws, if anyone wants to share."

But he received no response, because suddenly, both Cas and Gail sat up straighter in their seats, heads cocked to the side. Barry's forehead wrinkled.

Mike's unexpected appearance at the commune had necessitated a change in the schedule. Father Eli had instructed Mark to bring everyone to the chapel in the barn, immediately. Ordinarily, Mark would have chafed at being ordered around like that, but he was very much on board with the anticipated outcome of the ritual, so he hadn't raised an objection.

Once all of the Deacons and parishioners were gathered there, Carolyn, Mike and Peter were hustled into the room and made to sit down on the floor beside the makeshift altar. Eli had been hoping to make enough money by establishing their own wine label to buy some Italian marble, and then he had been planning to have some of the men craft a proper altar. But Eli was no businessman, and they had nearly run out of time. The window of opportunity was wide open right now, courtesy of the Angel Castiel, Mark had told the cult leader. Eli realized the newly recharged Angel was right.

When the congregation had settled down, Father Eli came to the front of the room, dressed in his finest gold and white robe.

"Judgement Day is about to commence," he told the group, and then he smiled grimly. "I know I've been talking about that for quite a while now, since back when we numbered only a couple of dozen devotees. How many are we now, Deacon Kenneth?"

The older man smiled proudly. "At last count, we were two hundred and fifty-two souls, Father," Kenneth said. He had up until just recently been a bookkeeper for a legal firm in town. But then he had heard rumours that there was a Prophet of the Lord speaking about a New World Order, and Kenneth had decided to check it out. He had never been a particularly religious sort of man, favouring numbers over theology. However, there had been something about the back-to-the-land philosophy at the commune and the free and easy way that Father Eli's followers were with guests, and with each other. Then Kenneth had met the Head Deacon, Mark, who had offered to anoint Kenneth with the Holy Oil that would ward the acolyte against the Undead Armies that were going to roam the Earth at the time of Judgement. By the time he had accepted Mark's blessing, Kenneth had been fully converted. With a little Angelic influence, of course.

"Not exactly the legions that were foretold, but it's a start, I guess," Mark said sarcastically, glancing at Eli.

Carolyn's brother frowned deeply. He hated it when Mark did that. Subtly undermining or mocking him in front of the parishioners. But Eli was powerless to do anything about it, both literally and figuratively. Eli was "Father" to his congregation, but Mark was the one who had the Biblical reputation, and the powers to go with it. Now that they had been in close association for a while, Eli knew that Mark was no Saint. He was far from it, in fact. But strangely enough, Eli took that as a good sign. Up was down, white was black, and seeing as they were on the verge of ushering in the new reality, it only stood to reason, didn't it?

Father Eli launched into his sermon as a terrified Carolyn took Mike's hand with one of her hands, and Peter's with the other. As the twisted rhetoric her brother was spouting went on and on, Carolyn's heart sank into her stomach. At first, it had started out like any of his other so-called sermons. But the instant that Eli mentioned Matthew, 5:30, Carolyn knew that she and her little family were in mortal danger.

"For I say unto you, in the words of the Gospel according to Matthew: 'And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee; for it is profitable that one of thy members should perish, than for your whole body to be cast into Hell'."

"Amen," Mark said, nodding vigorously. Or into the damn Lake of Fire. He was still owed some payback for that.

"These people are traitors. Spies," Eli said contemptuously, gesturing to the floor where his sister and her family were.

"Pray to Cas," Carolyn said to them. "Pray to Cas and Gail, NOW!"

"They're praying to us," Gail said to Barry. "They're in trouble."

"Wait here," Cas instructed their friend. But just as the Angels popped out of the diner, oblivious to whoever might notice, Barry reached across the table and seized Gail's hand.

The Angels reappeared in the barn a moment later, but Mark had been ready for them. He and Deacon Thomas moved quickly, grabbing Gail and Cas and putting handcuffs and shackles on them. The restraints were carved with ancient sigils, ones that dated back to Biblical times. Mark was taking no chances.

Barry had inadvertently let go of Gail's hand as soon as they had appeared, and he stumbled now, falling to his knees beside Carolyn.

Cas was furious. He struggled mightily as Deacon Thomas attached his shackles to heavy iron chains that were bolted to the floor at the foot of the altar. Mark had doused the chains in a Holy ointment that had come from Damascus, for added insurance. Cas noted with scorn that Mark had chosen to subdue Gail, rather than Castiel himself. Once a coward, always a coward.

"Thank you for joining us here today," Eli said to the Angels. Gail stared at him, incredulous. She honestly couldn't tell by his tone whether or not he was joking. She had tried to shake herself from Mark's grasp, but after a moment she had given up struggling, realizing it was no use.

"Deacon," Eli said, gesturing to a sandy-haired man with broad shoulders. The man produced a silver dagger from his pocket and strode forward, toward the altar. Mike tensed, preparing to punch the guy in the face, but the unnamed Deacon moved past the people on the floor and stood facing his leader.

Father Eli extended his hands, palms up. The Deacon drew the dagger across both of Eli's hands, breaking the skin. Then the man stepped back as Eli turned his hands over, palms down. He squeezed them into fists, making the blood that ran from the cuts drip onto the altar. "Blood of the Prophet," he intoned.

"'Prophet'?!" Cas exclaimed contemptuously. "You're no Prophet!"

"I'm the Prophet of the New World Order," Eli said coolly, as if that explained anything.

Carolyn's stomach was in a knot as she watched her brother's blood pool on the surface of the so-called "altar", beside her and her family. Suddenly, a religious service, perverted as it might be, had turned into...what? Some kind of a pagan ritual? What did Eli have planned?

She looked at the Angels, pleading non-verbally for them to help her. But their anguished expressions said it all: they were unable. The sigils on their restraints were keeping their powers in check. Cas had tried to broadcast a signal to Bobby, but he was being blocked from any Angelic communication.

Cas was extremely frustrated. There had been a time when he had believed that he could overcome ordinary sigils. He actually had, once or twice, when he'd been highly motivated. But he could feel that these were no standard sigils. He looked at Mark, who was smirking. Yes, of course, Cas thought. They were Biblical symbols. Like Gail had a minute ago, Cas ceased struggling to get free. His energy was best conserved at the moment, until he was able to work out how to overcome their captors. He made eye contact with Gail, noting that his wife had also been subtly checking out their surroundings. She gave him a slight nod. They didn't need Angel Radio to know what the other was thinking. Now, all they needed was an opening of some kind. A distraction.

The moment the Angels had the thought, they received their distraction, and it was a horrifying one.

The first thing they could hear was the murmur of the assembled group. Then, a couple of the women screamed. Wendy was approaching the front of the barn where Father Mark and Eli stood. The young girl was carrying what appeared to be a bundle of red-coloured rags in her arms.

But as Wendy moved past the altar, Carolyn gasped in shock as she saw what Wendy was holding.

Wendy had been sitting in the kitchen area when Deacon Lance's walkie unit had crackled. The Deacons were all being instructed to bring everyone to the chapel in the barn, now. The women were looking at each other with puzzled expressions on their faces. What about the feast they were in the midst of preparing?

"Let's go, ladies," the Deacon said, gesturing. "Father Eli wants us all there, right now."

The workers began to file out of the room, but Wendy hung back. She'd felt a sharp pain in her stomach a couple of minutes ago when she'd lifted the big mixing bowl from the table to the counter, and her feet had been killing her even before that. So she sank into one of the chairs as the others left, telling herself she would catch up in a minute. The barn was all the way at the east end of the property. A long walk for someone who was six-and-a-half months pregnant.

Plus, Wendy wasn't super-enthused about going to yet another service, and hearing yet another sermon. It seemed like all she did these days was work, and listen to Eli, preaching. Correction: FATHER Eli. Despite the fact that she was carrying his baby, Wendy was supposed to call him "Father". He said he was happy that she was having his child, but he sure didn't act like it, most of the time. Whenever Wendy was alone with him, he was always lecturing her about something. Lately, he'd been telling her that she wasn't showing him enough devotion. She had asked him what he meant by that, and he kept on quoting the same Bible verse to her: Matthew, 5:30. Wendy knew the one. It was one of Father Eli's favourites. But she wasn't really interested in hearing about the Judgement, or the New World Order. She had come back here to the commune because she'd had no place else to go. And everybody had been really nice to her, at first. But then she'd made the mistake of telling one of the girls who the father of her baby really was, and soon, everybody knew. Father was mad at Wendy for telling, and a lot of the women were mad at Wendy, probably because they were jealous. They began to ostracize her, and then Father Eli had started in on her, too.

Her life was miserable now, and Wendy didn't ever see it getting any better. She would sit there at the services while the Father was preaching, daydreaming about being back in school, or going out on a date with a boy her age. Doing something normal. But then, something Father would say during his sermon would snap her out of it, and Wendy would realize that those days of carefree innocence were long gone.

She continued to sit there at the kitchen table, tears streaming down her face. Father Eli had accused her of not being devoted to him, and Wendy knew that he was right. The teachings of Matthew were right. Father Eli had been preparing them all for months, now. Armageddon was coming soon, whether they liked it or not, and they needed to be ready for it, if they wanted to survive. Father Eli loved them, and he was only trying to look out for them, as best he could. He was there to lead them, but they all needed to take responsibility for their own survival, too. The Father had been telling them that they would all have to make sacrifices in the coming days, in order to make sure that they were on the right side of things, when Judgement came.

Wendy continued to cry. She took a deep breath, then another. "If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off," she said softly. She got up slowly and then walked toward the counter, where the butcher knife was sitting.

"Father, I freely give you this sacrifice," Wendy said to Eli as the parishioners looked on in horror. She thrust the bloody bundle into his arms. "Our child will be the first offering to the God of the New World Order."

Eli placed the tiny corpse on the altar as Wendy collapsed at his feet. She had taken the butcher knife from the kitchen counter and left the main building, walking to the barn. Night had fallen in the meantime, and as she gazed up at the sky, Wendy could see that the moon was full, and it was bright red. What her parents called a Blood Moon. It was definitely a sign.

Young Wendy had lost her mind. By giving her body and her soul over to Father Eli and his religious ideals, she had ceased to become a fully functioning individual. What she was about to do was the only thing she could think of to do, to show Father Eli that she was devoted to him, and to the New World Order.

Wendy had taken the butcher knife to her own stomach just outside the barn and performed a rudimentary Caesarean section on herself. Then she had wrapped the tiny baby in the bundle of aprons she'd taken from the kitchen and staggered into the chapel, to make her offering.

As Wendy lay beside the altar bleeding to death, Carolyn looked at her brother, speechless. Eli laid the bloody bundle on the altar, gazing at it dispassionately. This was unbelievable! This wasn't her brother; this was a monster.

As Eli bent down in front of her, Carolyn slapped her brother across the face, as hard as she could. The sound of the blow echoed through the rafters of the barn, and some of the parishioners gasped audibly. Two of the Deacons started forward, but Eli held up a hand. He got to his feet slowly, looking down at his sister, her boyfriend, and her young son, who looked like he was about to break down and cry.

Mike, however, was grimly amused. If the situation hadn't been so stomach-turning, he would have been sorely tempted to give Carolyn's slapping hand the most enthusiastic high-five it had ever received.

Eli looked at Mark, and Cas tensed. Was Carolyn's brother going to have Mark harm her, or her family?

Mark raised an Angel blade high in the air, turning in Gail's direction, and Cas's heart stopped. Deacon Lance came forward, carrying a small bowl he had brought from the kitchen. Gail shrank back, but there was nothing she could do. Oh, crap. Mark was going to kill her, right in front of Cas, and there was nothing either one of them would be able to do about it. She looked at her husband. If she was going to die here, she wanted his face to be the last thing she saw.

Mark was smirking as he cut Gail's arm with the blade. He knew what the two of them had been thinking. It had been extremely satisfying seeing the look of terror on their faces. But he was playing the long game, here. There would be many more opportunities to stick it to those two in the future. He was really looking forward to that.

But for now, Mark twisted Gail's arm roughly, as she hissed in pain. He let a few drops of her blood drip into the bowl the Deacon was holding, and then, when Father Eli gave him a nod, Lance took the bowl away. Mark put his hand on Gail's arm, healing her wound.

Cas's eyes were blazing so brightly now that Carolyn had to look away from the glow, and one of the rafters above the altar trembled. No one noticed. They were all staring at Father Eli.

"What's the matter with you people?" Mike shouted. "Are you just gonna sit there, and let them - " What? What exactly were those whackos doing?

Father Eli tilted the bowl, pouring Gail's blood onto the altar. "We are asking you to come to us, Father," Eli said, waving his hands over the altar. "We are ready for you, now."

The parishioners were confused. Why was Father Eli calling out for someone he was referring to as "Father"? Did he mean... God?

The blood on the altar began to bubble, and a moment later, there was a puff of black smoke.

"Hello, my children," Vincent said with a grin.

"Oh, you've GOT to be kidding us with this!" Gail exclaimed, and her father's smile widened.

"Don't mind my daughter," Vincent said to Eli. "She doesn't like to be kept apart from her Saintly husband." He looked at Cas. "Look at my son-in-law, all chained up. Too bad Abbadon isn't here. She could do all kinds of things with a sight like that." He looked at Gail again, shrugging. "Hey, don't look at me that way. It's not my fault you married the hottest Angel in Heaven."

Gail was seething now, but a part of her was picturing Gabriel, and the objection he would raise if he'd heard that. She willed herself not to smile at the thought. This was a horrible situation, but her reaction to adversity was often humour, whether appropriate, or not.

Cas was angry, of course, but he was trying to keep his temper in check. He realized this might be just the opportunity they had been looking for. "Where are Abbadon and Damien?" he asked Vincent.

Gail's father looked like he was the host of a cocktail party, making the rounds. He clucked his tongue. "Sorry, kiddo," he said to Gail, deliberately using Frank's nickname for her. "It looks like your husband has the Seven-Year Itch. Or is it the Seven-Thousand Year Itch? He wants to see Abbadon. Not that I can blame him. She's one hell of a woman. Maybe Cas should have dated a bit more, before he met you."

"Father, I have summoned you here to-" Eli started to say, but Vincent cut him off. "You've done what you were supposed to do, Eli. Nice blood ritual, by the way. Very scary. The dead baby was a nice touch. That's usually the way I prefer them, too." He grinned again, looking at Gail. "Although once in a while, it's kind of fun to let 'em live. This one is really entertaining. So is her brother. Well, her REAL brother, that is. Not that paunchy, lame excuse for a 'Hunter' who lives in the 'burbs, raising kids. No. The rotten one. The King of Hell. That one is gonna be a riot, when I take over the world. Now, where was I, before I was so rudely interrupted?" He looked at Cas. "Oh, yeah. None of your goddamn business, that's where."

Vincent strode over to where Eli and Mark were standing by the altar. "Decent job, boys," he said condescendingly. "Now, step aside. Let Papa take it from here."

Mark gave a half-shrug, moving away from the altar. Truthfully, he didn't really care. He figured he would get his share of the spoils, either way. Being in charge carried too much responsibility. Too many headaches.

But Eli was giving Vincent the side-eye. He didn't appreciate being talked down to like that. He was the one who had started his Ministry from nothing, and he was the one who had gathered the flock. Yes, he would have liked to have been able to produce a bigger congregation. But when Mark had brought Mike and Carolyn to Eli's office and informed Carolyn's brother of their visitor's true identity, Eli had felt he had better move now. He'd had a vision of Vincent a while back in which Vincent had revealed the ingredients for the summoning spell. Vincent was Papa Legba, the one who was destined to lead the New World Order.

Eli was fine with the idea, on principle. He had grown up being taught to respect and fear God, and if Vincent was to be the new God, so be it. His Will be done. But:

"We're supposed to be partners," Eli said softly. "I will sit at your right hand."

Vincent put his hand on Eli's shoulder. "Right. Yeah. Of course you will, Eli," he said good-naturedly. "I'm just making sure our flock here understand the hierarchy. It's all about respect. Worship. You know what I mean." Vincent winked, glancing at Wendy's dead body. "I know you know what I'm talking about, Daddy Eli," Gail's father continued. "There's a reason they call me 'Papa'. Right, Gail?" Vincent leered at Cas's wife. "That offer is still open, by the way. If Cas wants to hook up with Abbadon, maybe we can work out some kind of a trade."

Eli had no idea what seemed to be going on between the Angels and Vincent, but he was mollified by the newcomer's assurances. A flock could have two Fathers. Children had two parents, didn't they?

Gail was rolling her eyes. "It's comforting to see that some things never change, 'Dad'," she said to Vincent, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "You're still disgusting." Her eyes shifted to Eli. "Seriously? Are you buying his crap? You know, if there's any Tommy in you, any at all, you have to know, deep down, that Vincent's only using you, for... whatever this is. Then, as soon as he's gotten what he wants from you, he'll screw you over. Guaranteed. That's what he does."

"You're his daughter? But, you're an Angel!" Eli exclaimed.

Vincent was chuckling now. This was turning out to be a lot of fun already, and he hadn't even started screwing with them, yet. "OK, OK, you've got me, there," he said happily. "I guess this isn't exactly playing fair. I mean, I'm holding all the cards, here. I'll tell you what..."

Vincent snapped his fingers, and a lick of flames rose from his hand. The flash was unnecessary, of course. He just wanted to put on a bit of a show for Eli's slack-jawed congregation. They were all just sitting there, staring at the goings-on as if they were completely removed from the proceedings. And he supposed they were, at least for the moment. Mark had done his job well. A little too well, almost. The so-called congregation were no more than warm bodies, at this point.

The moment her father made his gesture, the handcuffs and shackles that had been holding Gail bound sprang open and fell to the barn floor with a loud clatter.

Vincent smiled. "See? I can be a fair and compassionate God. So, in the spirit of fair play, why don't you go get YOUR God, and we can have a real showdown?" he said to Gail. "A fair fight, between equals. Mano a mano. Bobby's got awesome, Godly powers, doesn't he? He should be able to mop the floor with me."

Gail's heart sank into her stomach. That was just it, though, wasn't it? Bobby DIDN'T have awesome, Godly powers. As their friend had been saying for years now, he had God's job, but he wasn't... God. Did Vincent know, or was he just bluffing? Crap. Like so many things about her father, she couldn't tell. His poker face was almost as good as her husband's.

As if reading Gail's mind, Vincent's smile widened into a grin as he looked at Cas. "Or, I could just fight your husband. Wouldn't that be hot? Just like the old gladiator days. You were actually there, weren't you, Cas? Were you a Christian back then... or a Roman?"

Cas's eyes flashed brightly once more, and another rafter trembled. If Vincent had seen that, he gave no sign. He was enjoying himself too much, at the moment. "Just look at him." Gail's father was gazing at Cas with an expression that bordered on affection. "He knows he can't kill me, but he's still determined to try. That's fine by me. Once I kill Cas, after a long, drawn-out battle to milk the suspense, your God Bobby can just revive him... Right, Gail?"

She was glaring daggers at Vincent, but inside, her stomach was churning. Crap! Vincent knew. Somehow, he knew that Bobby could no more bring Cas back from the dead than she could. Vincent had set this whole thing up as some kind of elaborate game.

Fine. If this was a game, then she would play. Vincent was underestimating her. They all did. Even her own husband had, at times. She glanced at Cas. His expression was full of emotions, mostly fueled by rage towards Vincent. Gail knew exactly how he felt. I won't let you down, sweetie, she thought. I won't let any of us down. To catch a bad guy, you had to think like a bad guy. She and Sam had discussed the subject, many times.

She was Vincent's daughter, wasn't she? It was time for Gail to think like Vincent. What would HE do?

She winked herself out of the barn.

Barry stared at the empty space where Gail had been standing a moment ago. Where had she gone? To get Bobby, probably. Barry was surprised they hadn't called for him, already. But then, their human friend realized: the restraints that had been holding the Angels must be inhibiting their powers. As soon as Gail's restraints had been removed, she had been able to pop out of here. Barry breathed a sigh of relief. Now, Gail would be able to bring help. Vincent was crazy; he should never have freed her.

Eli was looking at Barry with contempt. "Are you the one who led my brother into Sin?" the self-proclaimed Prophet said.

"Why don't you shut your mouth?" Mike said angrily. He was using every ounce of will power he had not to jump up and punch Carolyn's brother right in his smug, sanctimonious face. But Mike had been in the family circle long enough now to know who Vincent and Mark were, and what they were capable of. He glanced at the bloodied corpse of the young woman, laying on the barn floor beside the altar. Maybe Eli had some kind of mojo too, if he'd had anything to do with that girl's tragic decision.

But Barry had had about enough of Tommy and Carolyn's brother. Who the hell did he think he was? Barry rose to his feet, facing Eli.

"You know what?" Tommy's widower said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Number one, my name is Barry. Number two, your brother's name was Tommy, and he was my husband. And, number three, I didn't lead him into sin: he came willingly, Honey."

Carolyn barked out a laugh. Barry rarely spoke like that; he and Tommy used to say that it conformed to the stereotype. But her brother-in-law had done it on purpose this time, and she applauded him for it.

Eli opened his mouth to speak again, but Barry was just getting started: "We've had to deal with people like you all our lives. People like you, and your parents, and my husband's killer. All the narrow-minded people like you. Hypocrites. You know what I'm talking about. People who say: 'When is Straight Pride Month? Where's OUR Parade?' And you know what we used to say to that? EVERY month is your month! Every day is your day! Every damn day, all the damn time! Every day that you can wake up and walk down the street, without people whispering about you, behind your back. Every day that you go to school and not have to make the choice of denying who you are, just to get along with the other kids. When you don't have to choose to keep silent when someone else is being bullied because they're different, because you're too afraid the spotlight will be turned back on you. When you don't get beaten up in the schoolyard because somebody decides that hurting you will 'fix' you. Where is 'your' Parade? I'll tell you what, Eli: Why don't you have it in my neighbourhood? We can have the marching band start on the street where my husband was executed, for the heinous crime of holding my hand! How would THAT be?"

Barry's entire body was shaking with anger, his face was beet-red, and he was out of breath now. Wow. That had been festering for a long time, but he felt better now that he'd gotten it out. THAT was what he should have said to Del's parents, on that talk show. But for the time being, anyway, having said it to Tommy's brother was good enough.

"I've never been more proud to call you my brother-in-law," Carolyn said softly. Mike put his arm around her, and they both looked up at Barry affectionately.

Eli stared at Barry as if Tommy's widower was a new and somewhat disgusting form of insect. Nothing he'd heard had swayed Eli from his beliefs. This man could rant and rave all he wanted, but the truth was that Tommy was burning in Hell right now, and his lover would, too. They had chosen to live their lives wallowing in Sin, hadn't they?

"When do we begin?" Eli asked Vincent, turning away from Barry.

"When my daughter gets back," Vincent said calmly. Gail had been really cute, a minute ago. He could see the little hamster wheel spinning in her head. She was trying to outwit him, by thinking like him. He couldn't wait to see what she was going to do next.

Gail winked herself to a small forest clearing on the outskirts of Lebanon. She sent out the call as loudly as she could. She was fairly confident he would come, if for no other reason than mere curiosity.

Sure enough, a minute later, she heard the familiar voice:

"Hello, sweetheart."

Gail sighed. Crowley had once been her brother. Technically, she supposed, he still was. Yet, he insisted on calling her that. Yuk. Still, he was the lesser of the evils, right now.

"I need your help," she said, without preliminary.

"You've been with Castiel far too long," Crowley remarked dryly. "You're starting to talk like him."

"I don't have time to do our usual song and dance," Gail said, rolling her eyes. She told him about the situation, as succinctly as possible.

The King was weighing his options. Did he even want to involve himself in that whole mess?

Gail shook her head slowly. "If I'm reading your expression right, you're wondering what's in it for you," she said to him. "Let me help you with that. None of us wants Daddy Dearest taking over the world. You know what he's like. Do you think he's going to just leave you alone? No way. In fact, he was just talking about you. He was saying that he's going to have a lot of fun with you, when he takes over."

She was bending the truth a bit now, but not by much. Vincent HAD talked about Crowley. He had mentioned something about Crowley being "a riot". Whatever that meant. "It'll benefit you if Vincent is off the game board, believe me," she went on.

The King nodded. He couldn't argue with that. There was only one problem: "What do you suggest we do to take him OFF the game board? The last I heard, the man is bloody immortal," he pointed out.

Gail's lips pursed. She had no idea; not really. But something had occurred to her when Vincent had been babbling about her being his daughter, and Crowley being her brother. Before they'd gone to France, Gail had been thinking that it could be possible for those of Vincent's children who had special abilities to band together and use their powers to hurt him. Maybe even to kill him. That hadn't worked out, of course, but she couldn't help but wonder if the notion had any validity. She had the powers of an Original Angel, and Crowley was the King of the Demons. And, technically, they were both his children too, weren't they? She made her case. "Hey, it's worth a shot, right?" she concluded, shrugging.

Crowley stroked his well-trimmed beard, looking thoughtful. There could be some merit to her theory. But, being who he was, he smirked. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you refer to our familial connection out loud."

Gail frowned. "What can I say? You're the brother I never, ever wanted."

"I believe that may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he remarked.

"Really?" she retorted. "Then, I must have said it wrong."

Crowley barked out a short laugh. As much of a pain in his back pocket the Angels were most of the time, Gail had always had the ability to amuse him. Maybe he would find excuses to see her a bit more often, in the future. Of course, she was usually in Castiel's company. So, on second thought, maybe not. Perhaps Crowley could bribe Vincent to keep Castiel prisoner, for a while.

He looked at Gail. "Let's go, then."

Gail had been hoping to throw Vincent off his game by reappearing with the King of Hell in tow, instead of God. Besides, she hadn't wanted to risk showing up with Bobby in case Vincent's threat to kill Cas hadn't been a bluff.

But the instant she and Crowley popped into the barn, Vincent grinned. Perfect. Gail had tried to outsmart him, but her father had actually outfoxed her. He hadn't wanted Bobby here; he had wanted Crowley, and Gail had delivered admirably.

Vincent gestured to Mark. "Draw blood from Castiel, but not too much," he instructed the Gospel plagiarist. "You," Vincent added, gesturing to Deacon Lance. "Same with him." He pointed at Crowley.

Eli was mystified. "What's going on, here?" he asked Vincent. "What are you doing?"

Vincent stared at him, expressionless. He'd needed the blood of the two original Sons of Creation to trigger the spell, but he felt no obligation to tell his so-called "partner" that.

Mark slashed Cas with the Angel blade, and Deacon Lance swiped at Crowley's face, catching him on the cheek.

As the King of Hell's blood dripped down his neck, Crowley stared at the Deacon incredulously. Was the guy bonkers? "You dare to cut the King of Hell?!" Crowley exclaimed. He waved his hand, flinging Lance across the barn. The unfortunate Deacon landed on the spikes of a farming machine, which punctured his torso, impaling him. He died instantly, eyes wide open in surprise.

Crowley glared at Vincent, who was still grinning. "What was THAT all about?" the King asked the Voodoo Priest.

"It's about the real spell," Vincent replied smugly. He watched as Cas's blood dripped down his arm and pooled on the barn floor, mixing with Crowley's. "The original Sons, Cain and Abel. So it began, so it shall end. See, Cas? I can speak the lingo, too." Gail's father began to wave his hands over the pooled blood, which started to hiss and bubble. He spoke some words in a language that none of them recognized, not even Crowley.

"Welcome to Revelation, Chapter 22, Verse 21," Vincent announced loudly. "The end is just the beginning." Then he snapped his fingers, releasing Cas from his restraints. "Go forth, Castiel," Vincent intoned. "Embrace your Biblical heritage. What do we do with Heretics, and Blasphemers?"

Cas walked forward slowly, and Gail's forehead wrinkled. She was glad that he was free, but both the expression on his face and the way he was walking were weird.

While Cas's wife was trying to figure out what was wrong with him, Crowley touched the wound on his neck, smearing the blood on his fingers. "Sorry, sweetheart, there's no time for finesse," he said to Gail, who was ignoring him for the moment. She was still staring at Cas. He had reached the makeshift altar now, and her heart was hammering in her chest. Was he going to kill Eli? Or Vincent? Or both? But she didn't see how his killing Vincent would be possible. What had that weird spell been about? Cas and Crowley's blood was still bubbling, and Vincent was still grinning that dark and gleeful grin of his.

Crowley spread the blood that was on his hand all over his mouth. Then he grabbed a shocked Gail and kissed her on the lips, introducing his blood into her vessel. He made sure to use his tongue. Just because.

She wrenched herself out of his grasp, but by then, it was already too late. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, emitting a cry of disgust. "What the hell? What is WRONG with you?!" she exclaimed.

Crowley gave her a half-shrug. "It was either that, or the knife," he said, as if that explained anything at all.

Cas put one of his hands on Carolyn's head, and the other one on Mike's. The couple looked up at him gratefully. Oh, good. He was going to wink them and Peter and Barry out of here, and then, their friend was going to start kicking some serious ass. Mike almost wished he could hang around and witness that.

But Cas was staring at Vincent. "We execute them," he intoned, answering Vincent's question of a moment ago. The blue glow emanated from his hands, burning the couple's eyes out of their sockets. Peter screamed as his mother's body caught fire. An instant later, so did Mike's. They hadn't even had the chance to cry out.

As the blue flames melted the flesh from their bones, Barry started to back away from Cas's advance. "No, Cas," Barry said in a hushed voice, unable to process what he had just seen. "Please."

Peter scrambled to his feet and ran up the aisle to the exit as Vincent issued a loud, booming laugh. "Welcome to the New World Order," he said to Gail. "Up is down, black is white. And sometimes, white is black. From now on, there's only one chapter in the Bible: The Book of Vincent. You're mine now, and Cas is Heaven's. Good luck, 'kiddo'. You're gonna need it."

He snapped his fingers and disappeared, leaving only the echo of his laughter behind.

**\- END OF BOOK 47. -**


End file.
